#like why am i the only 1 who seems 2 have made gifs from this footage it's INSANE how groundbreaking (for the time) the cameras he used are
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HISPANIC HERITAGE MONTH + BAND OF BROTHERS:
JOSEPH "JOE" RAMIREZ
Born October 5th, 1921, in Nebraska
Died April 8th, 1988 (age 66), in Martinez, California
Joe Ramirez enlisted in September 1942 (age 20) in San Francisco, CA, and he trained with Easy Company at Toccoa. Holding the rank of Private, he served in Normandy, Holland, and Bastogne. He was hospitalized in January 1945, and discharged in July 1945. After the war, he was married for many years, and had children and grandchildren. When he passed away he was buried with his wife, who had passed away 11 years earlier. Further information about him is scarce, but the brief character profile in the Band of Brothers series bible describes him as Mexican-American, and his personality as "sensitive and nervous."
Appears in Episodes 1, 3-8, and 10; portrayed by actor Rene L. Moreno
Sources below
A million thanks to @bleedingcoffee42 for tracking down this info for me!
#joe ramirez#joseph ramirez#band of brothers#rene l. moreno#mine: gifs#hispanic heritage month#latino heritage month#sources vary on whether he was a Private or PFC#they seem to have taken A LOT of creative liberties on the show bc#the only 2 anecdotes about him in BoB seem pretty diff from his character on-screen#not to mention that he would've been in the hospital during events of episodes 8 and 10 (each of which he's in several scenes)#on the other hand i do really like his character in the show and think he's one of the best and most underrated background characters#and why yes i am completely normal about him 😅#but also i'm sure he would've been great too if they'd made him more accurate to what limited info exists about the IRL guy#I forgot to save a few of the documents that bleedingcoffee42 sent me unfortunately but these are most of them!#but from one of them (his draft card?) i discovered he lived like 1.5 miles from my grandparents!!#(tho of course they moved there in the 50s so who knows if he was still living at same address by then... but still!)#oops i originally had the episodes he's in listed wrong on this#so AFAIK he's only NOT in eps 2 and 9#in ep 1 he's twirling a knife at the beginning and eating spaghetti next to Guarnere and Malarkey and playing basketball in England#in ep 6 he's eating the bean soup near the line when Sink arrives#in 7 he's sitting next to popeye and then in the church at the end (maybe in Foy but i'm not positive)#in ep 3 i thiiiink he's in Carentan next to Buck? and he's at the party in England sitting next to Lipton and listening to Gordon#in 4 he's in too many scenes to list here#in 8 he's in too many to list#in 10 he's hunting for food with the group and standing next to Grant's shooter when Speirs comes in the room
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Billie Jean - HIStory World Tour - Munich 1997 (rare alternate angles and shots part 1)
#these look weird bc of the difference in framerate i guess n i dont have to gear to fix that but im not NOT posting them#michael jackson#mj#billie jean#history world tour#1997#munich#germany#live#90s#moonwalkers#mjfam#like why am i the only 1 who seems 2 have made gifs from this footage it's INSANE how groundbreaking (for the time) the cameras he used are#and these rare crowd-facing angles are cooool#my stuff#U can more easily tell that he was sick during this concert tho :(
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pornography (eric draven x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse
summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude
word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3
a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...
"I fucking hate pink,"
I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"
"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"
My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here.
He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"
"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."
The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"
This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"
"... Why?"
"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with.
He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either.
"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"
It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality.
"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table.
My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?
I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.
Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?
My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected.
A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?
It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room.
I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.
It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest.
I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation.
Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"
"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?
He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms.
Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude.
I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this. "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"
It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"
"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"
"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."
This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"
Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."
There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat.
I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.
"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"
Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.
I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters.
It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra.
If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what.
I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.
"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes.
Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss.
I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on.
But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."
Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time,"
My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"
"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."
I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.
(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)
#the crow 2024#eric draven x reader#the crow x reader#the crow fanfiction#eric draven fanfiction#the crow#oneshot#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#bill skarsgård#bill skarsgård x reader#bill skarsgard#eric draven
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Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.
However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏
CHOCOLATE
Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.
Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.
Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.
James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.
"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.
You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."
"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."
"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."
There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”
“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”
He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”
Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.
“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.
“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”
You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”
“I like that you miss me.”
You huffed but couldn’t deny it.
“I’m missing you, too,” he said.
“James…” you breathed.
“Did you get the gift I sent?”
“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.
“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.
“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”
When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.
Or at least tease him.
The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.
The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.
JAMES: You have my interest piqued.
You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.
YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.
Three dots appeared straight away, and then
JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.
Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.
YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?
Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.
JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.
A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.
At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.
But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.
Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.
JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.
Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.
Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.
A text alert broke your reverie.
JAMES: Five minutes.
You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.
The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.
The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?
"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."
You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."
He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"
You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.
Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.
You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.
He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."
His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.
“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”
He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”
“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.
"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."
You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.
"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"
You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."
You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.
He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.
You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.
Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.
"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."
He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.
"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"
He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."
His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.
"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."
You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.
Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.
"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.
He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.
"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."
His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.
"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.
He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"
In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.
With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.
Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.
"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.
You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.
"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."
Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."
With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.
His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.
"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.
You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.
You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.
"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."
You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.
You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.
He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."
"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."
With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.
"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."
He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.
You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”
You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.
“When I breed you.”
You gasped.
He groaned and curled his body down over your back.
Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.
“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”
You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.
He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”
You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.
He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.
“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.
You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”
He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.
“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”
He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.
“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”
"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."
Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”
You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."
Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.
You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."
His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.
You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."
"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.
Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.
He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.
"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."
You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.
"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"
You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.
Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."
Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.
You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.
"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."
“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”
It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.
He wanted this.
He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.
Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.
"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."
His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.
"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."
As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.
"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.
With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.
You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.
You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.
"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."
He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."
His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.
Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.
For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.
Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.
"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.
Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."
You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.
After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."
You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."
He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."
You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.
"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.
He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."
You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”
“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”
“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.
He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."
You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.
You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.
"Open," Bucky murmured.
Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.
The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.
"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"
He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."
Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."
He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.
When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"
Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."
He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.
As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.
The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.
As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."
You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."
"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.
You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."
"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."
The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.
As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
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Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#mob au#bucky barnes fanfic#female reader#devour au#aspen wrote something#2200 followers celebration#askpen#kink: breeding#kink: food play
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Come back to you
Bucky x pregnant!reader
What happens when a time travel mission ends up with a version of Bucky from the 40′s standing on the time travel platform.
Warnings: FLUFFFFF, sweet charming 40′s Bucky, time travel, teensiest bit of angst.
-
“Buck, are you sure about this” You shuffled nervously by the platform Bucky was standing on, his latest mission requiring him to travel through a time portal. It wasn’t something he hadn’t done before but time travel was still tricky and the last thing you wanted was something happening to Bucky.
Especially now.
“I’ll be fine doll” Bucky assured you, holding onto a device Tony had made to gather information, the time stamp on the portal set to 1943. All he had to do was locate the coordinates he was given, scan a few documents and return to the present. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Bucky pulled himself out of high risk missions but this seemed easy enough and he was the only one familiar with the location. “Promise I’ll come right back to you in just a few seconds babygirl”
He gave you a wink, kissing your cheek before nodding to Bruce who was by the machine console, rechecking the timestamps and settings so all Bucky had to do was press a button on his suit when he was ready to come back. You held your breath, standing back while the platform lit to life, a flash of white nearly making Bucky disappear instantly. While the mission could feel like minutes to hours for him, it would be mere seconds for you.
You fidgeted with your fingers while Steve monitored Bucky’s tracker, getting the platform ready for him to return. You nearly let out the breath you were holding, seeing a green light indicate Bucky had pressed the button to return and you’d have him back in your arms again.
“Alright, the portal is stable, he’ll be back in 5...4...3...2...1″
The bright light flashed again, the super soldier standing right where he’d left, not a hair out of place. Bucky blinked, looking down at his suit, frozen on the spot before looking to his best friend, the only person he seemed to recognize in the room.
“St-Steve?”
“Buck” Steve’s brows furrowed noting the way Bucky’s eyes darted around the room with a confused look on his face.
“Where-where am I?” Bucky whipped his head around, before looking to his best friend again for answers. “What am I wearing?” He looked down at his hands, eyes growing wide when he saw his metal one, flexing his vibranium digits. “My arm?”
He looked like a lost puppy, unable to move from where he was standing, nearly pinching himself because he had to be dreaming. “What’s going on punk, where am I, why-why does everything look so different, where are we?”
You felt sick to your stomach as your husband looked at you for not more than a second having no idea who you were, having no idea where he was himself. He tugged at the sleek material of the tac suit with an expression of fascination and horror, his flesh hand tracing over the metal one.
“Steve, whats going on?” You looked over to him, blinking back tears, already feeling panic rise in your chest, desperately hoping the time travel made Bucky a little delirious, something a bit of rest would fix. Steve swallowed thickly, slowly approaching Bucky, something telling him the confusion was more complex than just being shaken from time travel.
“What year is it, Buck”
Bucky looked at Steve with furrowed brows but answered anyway.
“1943″
“Your full title?”
“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th” He replied with confidence, not a hint of humor in his voice. He stood with the confidence of a soldier, shoulders rolled back, with a strong stance. Steve nodded while Bruce immediately started to fiddle with the portal, understanding the mission had altered something in Bucky. The Bucky that stood before everyone was physically from the present but his mind was from the 40′s.
“Just give me a sec Buck, I’ll be with you in a minute” Steve keep his voice light, not wanting to worry his bestfriend further. He took away the device Bucky was holding, leading him to stand away from the platform while he gently led you away to speak with Bruce. “Banner, what the hell”
“His departure was fine but there must have been a glitch with the portal coming back. When Barnes travelled back, something warped with his memories; right now he’s Bucky from 1943. He doesn’t have any recollection of anything after that” Bruce continued to press at buttons while carefully watching Bucky walk around the lab, his face softening in sympathy.
Bucky eyes held child like wonder, staring at the high ceilings and vast technology he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He found himself wandering around the room, waiting for his bestfriend to tell him what was going on, distracting himself with science in the mean time.
He always loved science.
Tony and Sam joined the lab after a few frantic text messages; Tony joining Bruce in trying to figure out what went wrong whereas Sam had come to check on you and make sure you were okay. Sam sat down with you, gently squeezing your hand in his, not wanting stress to end up hurting you or the pregnancy.
“He doesn’t remember me” You blinked back tears, your hand coming up to rest on your swollen belly, watching Bucky stare at the other creations Tony had lying around on the tables, in his own little world of fascination and utter confusion.
“Look, we’re gonna get him back. Remember when Scott returned as a baby and then an old man 10 seconds later and he wasn’t sure which version of himself shit his pants?” He gave you a comforting smile, taking you put of the lab to rest while Steve made his way over to Bucky. “C’mon mama, terminator would wage war on all of us if we didn’t take care of you. He’s gonna be okay, he’d want you to be taking care of yourself first”
Steve kept Bucky occupied for the time being, not wanting to confuse him with too much, only explaining a few things to him such as the metal arm. Bucky understood bits and pieces, such as something about time travel, war and something else about a mad scientist. Any details about you were left out, not wanting to complicate things further.
Over the next few days, Bucky was learning to adjust to the modern world all over again, staying in Steve’s room while Tony and Bruce worked on resetting the portal. You kept your distance from him, going about your routine as best as you could along with a sadness pulling at your heart when you didn’t have him by your side.
The bed was too cold.
It wasn’t comfortable when he wasn’t there to be your human body pillow.
He wasn’t there to cuddle up with when you were feeling needy.
He wasn’t immediately by your side with chamomile tea that soothed any nausea you felt, always knowing when you needed some without you saying anything.
He wasn’t there with his warm and cool hands to sooth the kicks that nudged in your belly; your Bucky would always have his hands on you, obsessed with his pretty angel all full of him.
Now you had to wait.
But even Bucky from 1943 couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“Whose that?” Bucky pointed over at you, having noticed that you spent a lot of time alone, no partner by your side though you were clearly very pregnant and nearing your due date. You had come to the kitchen to make some tea, not realizing both super soldiers were grabbing a snack after a morning run, deciding to continue with what you were doing instead of leaving abruptly. Steve glanced over to where Bucky was looking at, his eyes growing wide noticing the concerned look on his best friends face.
“This is y/n” Steve nodded for you to come over, letting his hand rest on your back to give you some support while Bucky gave you a boyish smile. “Y/n, this is my best friend, the very James Buchanan Barnes, the same punk I’ve told you a lot about”
“You can just call me Bucky”
“Nice to meet you” You gave him a soft smile, returning his charming one, feeling butterflies all over again just like the first time you had met him. Your cheeks grew warm when he gave you his hand, immediately asking if you needed help with anything else.
“You need us to get you anything, doll? Why don’t you go rest in the living room, I can bring this to you once the waters boiled” He sent you away so you could get off your feet, watching you with heart eyes as you waddled away out of the kitchen. He then shook his head, remembering that you probably had a husband and it wasn’t right for him to look at you that way.
Steve shook his head at Bucky’s antics as the brunette grabbed a bag of chamomile tea before pouring the water in and checking the temperature before bringing it over to you. He didn’t linger around too much, wanting to be respectful, letting you relax while he made his way back to Steve.
However, each day his curiosity only grew. Between passing good mornings and shy smiles, he couldn’t help but wonder why no one ever mentioned anything about your partner or spouse. It had been nearly 3 weeks and you were always alone. He wasn’t one to pry and he definitely didn’t want to come off as nosy or seem like he wanted to know your business.
Still.
He didn’t like that he hadn’t seen anyone by your side the whole time.
12:45 AM
Bucky’s ears perked up when he heard soft footsteps padding towards the kitchen, setting down the book he was reading to find your tired face, your hand resting on your baby bump. He felt something tug at his heart seeing sleep still etched on your face, hair still tousled, your other hand supporting your back. He sprung to his feet, leading you to sit down before you could say anything, crouching down while keeping your hand in his.
“What do you need doll, should I get some water started?” He gave you a gentle squeeze when you nodded, hearing the faint rumble of your tummy, “Maybe a snack too” He grinned, getting up and filling a kettle and rummaging through the fridge to cut up some fruit, adding a double chocolate cookie on the side.
“There ya go, can’t have you goin’ back to be hungry” He gave you a wink, sitting down beside you with his own mug.
“Thank you, Bucky” You couldn’t help but giggle at the cookie he proudly added to your plate.
“You don’t have to thank me sweets, I’m happy to help” Bucky insisted, pleased to see you munch on the fruit with a satisfied hum, chuckling when your eyes rolled back as you sunk your teeth into the cookie. “Can’t have you doin’ all this by yourself”
“Well, I’m not by myself when you’re around” You gave him a light hearted smile, wishing you could slink into his arms and feel him wrap you up, blinking back tears that stung your eyes.
“You’re doin’ this alone?” Bucky looked at you with wide eyes, shock evident in his voice, a sliver of anger slipping through. How could anyone abandon someone as sweet as you, especially when you were carrying their child.
“I-um-sort of-” You nodded, hoping to keep your emotions at bay, swallowing the lump in your throat.
No.
You’re right here.
But you’re so far away
Your mind was screaming but there was nothing else you could say, taking a sip of your tea to keep yourself from sniffling.
“I’m sorry sweets, bet you’re real strong though. Always smilin’ like sunshine” Bucky sat closer to you, resting his hand on top of yours, holding it softly. He gave you one of his classic dashing smiles, washing up your cup and plate before walking you back up stairs and wishing you a good night. You snuggled up in your sheets with a content sigh; whether it was Bucky from the 40′s or Bucky from today, both were still sweet and protective as ever.
-
You made your way downstairs with your shopping list in hand, growing fed up with the lack of potato chips in the cupboards and still needing to get baby supplied with your due date growing even closer. You slipped on a comfy sun dress, stepping into the elevator and passing through the common room. You paused at the sight of your Bucky, his nose tucked in a book again, the sunlight from the ceiling high windows making his skin glow. You adored the slight scrunch of his nose as his eyes flicked over the words, heavily engrossed in another sci-fi novel, his favorite thing to read after raiding Steve’s library.
“Good morning’ doll” He peeked up from his book, giving you a bright smile, noting you were dressed to go out, “goin’ somewhere?”
“Just going to get some fresh air, stop by the store for some things I need”
“Is anyone going with you?” Bucky set down his book, looking over his shoulder to see if someone was going to accompany you, frowning when he saw there was no one else.
“I’ll be fine Bucky, really-”
“Not a chance, my ma would have my head if I just let you go out alone, especially right now” Bucky shook his head, shoving a bookmark between the pages and setting it on the coffee table. “Pretty dame like you shouldn’t be going out alone. Steve can grab what you need from the store, just give him the list. I’ll take you out for a walk"
Bucky kept his hand gently at the small of your back, the other holding your hand as you both walked though the park, keeping his eyes trained everywhere, making sure you were safe.
“Are you feelin’ alright?” He asked, always pausing incase you felt tired, concerned etched on his face whenever you huffed, firming his grip around you. “Let’s get you home sweets”
As you both walked back home, you missed your Bucky even more, a part of you enjoying spending time with the sweet care free man from the 40′s, another part of you desperately missing your husband. Once you got back, Tony was waiting for you, taking you over to the lab where Bruce was still tinkering away, both men looking exhausted from endless nights of no sleep.
“Good news, we’re almost ready, should be good to go in just a few days” Tony smiled, noting your face fall ever so slightly, your heart jumping because you’d finally get Bucky back but you’d miss the young soldier version of him.
“You’re gonna miss pre-grumpy terminator, huh” Tony chuckled, while you playfully rolled your eyes, waddling back to the kitchen, following the scent of something sweet that caught your attention. You smiled at the sight of Bucky moving gracefully around the kitchen, every so often asking FRIDAY questions, his eyes lighting up with joy each time the AI answered. You didn’t want to disturb him, quietly entering until you felt a strong kick to your side.
“Oof-”
Bucky looked up to see your face scrunch, dropping the spoon he was holding and making his way to you.
“Doll? What’s wrong, are you okay?”
“They’re kicking” You smiled, resting your hands over your tummy, trying to soothe the movement but to no avail. They only responded to their daddy.
“They?” Bucky’s eyes grew wide, taking in what you just said while you nodded, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your belly where the babies fluttered, their little feet pressing against your skin.
“Two baby boys”
“S’like you got me and Stevie in there” Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparking in awe feeling the movement in your belly, “Causin’ a ruckus for their ma. Can I get somethin’ for ya?” He gave you a boyish smile, ushering you to sit down.
“They seem to respond to you” You hummed, feeling your little ones settle after Bucky’s hands rested on your stomach, something that seemed to soothe all three of you. “Sometimes they only rest when I walk around, tire all of us out”
Bucky thought for a moment, his face glowing when an idea popped into his head.
“Steve just showed me how to work this, not that it makes much sense” Bucky fidgeted with his phone for a bit, his tongue sticking out with his focus. He pulled up a playlist of 40′s music, picking something slow before setting the phone down and helping you back on your feet, “Maybe this will help”
“What are you doing Bucky” You giggled as Bucky took your hand in his and twirled you towards him, your hands resting on his chest. He kept his hands around your baby bump, rubbing soft circles on your sensitive skin, dancing with you in the kitchen.
“I’ll be gentle” he started to sway with you, humming along to the soft music, “Can’t have those little punks tiring you out, mama” You allowed yourself to melt into his touch, turning your body to the side so you could rest your head against his chest, hearing the same steady beat of his heart that grounded you. You nearly fell asleep with the way he held you, keeping you and your babies safe, his soft scent surrounding you, every muscle in your body relaxing.
“C’mon, I’ll take you up to bed” He whispered when he noticed your eyelids grow heavy, a small yawn slipping past your lips the more you snuggled into his arms. He pushed away the thought of scooping you up into his arms, not wanting to over step his boundaries, holding you close to his side instead as you made your way up the elevator.
“Thank you for that dance, soldier” You gave him a shy smile while he stood by your door, every part of him wanting to hold you for longer.
“You’re a real charmer, sweets” Bucky blushed, his hands still resting on your baby bump, “I’m tellin’ ya, if you were mine...” He caught himself before speaking to much, his cheeks turning peachier.
It was evident things were different in the future.
If he had met you just like this in the 40′s, he would have stepped up and been by your side. Of course, he’d ask you to marry him, have Steve as his best man. He would have wanted to be your man, a good husband to you and a father to your babies if you’d let him. He indulged in his fantasy for a little longer, thinking about the two little boys he’d be happy to call his and perhaps having a baby girl later on.
“What if I was yours” you gazed up at him while he gave you a signature flirty smirk, bright blues twinkling.
“You’d be my darlin’, my sugar” Bucky pressed an innocent kiss to your cheek, blushing more himself when you giggled, returning his kiss to the dimple on his chin.
“Maybe one day, solider”
“I’d like that, babydoll”
-
You held your breath watching Bucky step on the platform again, repeating back all the instructions Steve had given him, still a little confused about time travel but trusting anything his best friend said.
“Push this button when you get to these coordinates and you’ll come right back” Steve assured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
“You sure I won’t die, punk?” Bucky snorted, checking over his tac suit, glancing over to you, wishing he could take you back with him.
Maybe one day.
“Take care of yourself doll” Bucky quickly stepped off the platform to give you another kiss before getting back on with a grin at the wolf whistle from Sam and Tony, waving to those in the room before giving Bruce nod. He disappeared in a flash, your anxiety kicking up again waiting for your Bucky to come back, the green signal lighting up once again, just like last time....
“Alright, 5..4..3..2..1″ Everyone stood in silence as Bucky reappeared once again, blinking just as he had done before, but this time, his eyes landing to you first.
“Bucky?” You whispered, still holding your breath as he stepped towards you, a relieved smile on his face, instantly enveloping you into a hug, inhaling your soft scent, the one that reminded him of home, his heart, his safe space.
“Hey darlin’” He kissed the top of your head, before cupping your face to look at him, peppering soft kisses across your cheek before dropping his hands and slipping them up your shirt to feel your belly, smiling at the feeling of soft flutters and kicks.
“You’re back” You pulled him down for a kiss, letting out a relieved sigh at the feeling of his warm pillowy lips finally on yours again, ignoring the hollering that went on in the background, your hands clutching onto him.
“Told you I’d be back” He smiled against your lips, scooping you into his arms, not wasting another second, taking you straight to your shared bedroom. He set you down gently on your feet before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“My darlin’ my sugar” He playfully whispered, holding you close to him. You gasped, pulling away to see his lips tick up into a smirk, giving you a wink,
“You-you remember?”
He nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips.
“You said maybe one day” He dropped to his knees, resting his head on your swollen belly, his heart swelling at the feeling of his babies, finally home again with the one person who lightened up his life “Glad to see you’re mine, babydoll”
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#bucky barnes x pregnant reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky barnes x fluff#Bucky Barnes x f!reader#Bucky Barnes x female reader#40s bucky#40s bucky barnes#40s bucky barnes x reader#marvel fluff#avengers fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fanfic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic#bucky fan fics#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky imagine#bucky barnes one shot
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*sleepy*
Courting Pursuit
Part 2
Part 1
Alastor X Deer Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠
You continued to act affectionate towards him.
Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.
Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.
The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.
"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.
Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.
And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.
"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"
What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.
"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.
Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.
"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."
"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"
"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.
"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"
"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."
"Childish!?"
"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ₩θrs€ than death."
"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"
"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"
He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.
Something still irked him however..
Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.
As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.
Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.
Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.
"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."
"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.
"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.
"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.
"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.
He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.
She dead pans.
"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"
"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.
"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"
She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?
He should have spoken up about it from the start.
It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.
Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.
You perk up when noticing him.
"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)
"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.
Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.
Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.
Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.
"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)
"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."
With that you took a step back.
"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)
Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.
"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)
He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.
With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.
Sad times means cookies.
~Seline, the person.
Part 3
Taglist@
@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?
ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌
#deer reader#mule deer reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel#the radio demon#x reader#gn reader#alastor x reader#tw threats#implied/suggestive#vox being a stalker#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox#hazbin hotel rosie#hazbin rosie#overlord rosie#overlord vox#angel dust mentioned#😭#the rejection...#Vox is totally jealous
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Written Between the Lines
Interlude - Meddling With Our Hearts
Summary: Five times someone interferes with yours and Aemond’s relationship and one time you decide to take the reins and shape your own fate.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Word count: 6,9k
Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece)
Notes: Hello!! How have you all been? This one came out faster than I expected! Yay!
Okay, just to explain a few things, so this chapter is a bonus, non-chronological chapter in the story. It is separated into items, as it follows the ‘5+1 Things’ model, spanning across several years. In item 1, Reader and Aemond are very young, around 4 and 6 respectively (and Aegon is around 10), whereas items 2, 3, 4 and 5 are set after chapter 1 of this story (think episodes 6 and 7 of season 1). Lastly, the last item is set in the middle of chapter 2.
I am having lots of fun writing for Aemond, so much so I have a few ideas for unrelated one-shots I plan on writing for him. Anyway, I really really hope you enjoy this!
Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3
1. Aegon Targaryen
As young children, wherever Aemond Targaryen was you were never too far behind. As the eldest of Rhaenyra Targaryen’s children, you were often regarded as a possible successor of your mother’s to the title of the Realm’s Delight, being soft and sweet and so very beautiful even from such a young age. There was no shortage of people wanting to gaze upon you, spoil you with attention and possibly win over the favor of the heir to the Iron Throne after King Viserys I. But there was only ever one person whose attention you truly craved.
With the birth of your younger brother Jace and your mother’s pregnancy with yet another child, your parents’ attention was naturally split. It wasn’t to say they neglected you or favored your brother above you, oh no, but it was only natural that you were no longer their sole focus, even more fickle given their duties at court. Your father in particular, Ser Laenor, tried to give you as much attention as he possibly could, but even then that was restricted to specific times of the day, mostly at supper and after. It was an adjustment, for sure, and for a little while you resented your little brother, but you were quick to find another source of the attention you craved somewhere else: your uncle Aemond. You couldn’t possibly know why, nor had you ever thought about it, but you were drawn to him in ways you could not explain. And the feeling seemed to be mutual.
Aemond Targaryen, as the second son of King Viserys and his fourth child, was most often overlooked by many in court. He wasn’t Rhaenyra, who held their father’s unconditional love, or Aegon, who carried the title of his first male child, and matters were made worse by the fact that his dragon egg had yet to hatch, whereas Aegon’s had done so when he was still pretty young, and Helaena had quickly claimed Dreamfyre. Even his mother, who once doted on him like never before, had lessened her attention over him, as her fourth pregnancy progressed and her affection usually leaned more towards her only daughter.
So when his little niece, barely old enough to attend lessons, had developed a fascination towards him and would often trail behind him wherever he went, he absolutely basked in the attention that was so freely given. You, who had no obligation to him other than to be cordial at best, gazing up at him with adoration in those innocent eyes made him cherish the moments you spend together.
It was only natural, then, that the two of you could often be found in each other’s presence. Whenever neither of you were having lessons and were left to your own devices, you seemed to always find each other, your tiny hand enveloped in Aemond’s not much bigger one as he pulled you behind him towards whatever destination he had in mind.
“Where we going, Aem?” your sweet voice, not yet able to properly speak his name, would often ask. The library, the dragonpit, the gardens, it didn’t truly matter as long as you were together.
Aem.
The nickname you had bestowed upon him was one of his deepest treasures. To everyone else he was either Aemond, son or brother, and two of these he had to share with other people, but to you, and to you alone, he was Aem. It was something so inherently his, something to share with you and only you. It reminded him of you, of the devotion and admiration you held for him, something no one else seemed to have for him, and he never wanted to let go of it.
But as he would be reminded time and time again he should never hope, nor should he wish for good things for himself, for they could be ripped from him at a moment’s notice.
The day had started out like any other: after your lessons you had quickly scrambled out of your quarters to find Aemond and spend the day together. He had decided, then, to take you to the training grounds to watch some of the knights train.
“See that one over there?” he pointed to a man, just barely out of adolescence, training with Criston Cole “That is Ser Arryk. Or could he be Erryk? It matters not, either way, both of them are really good. Ser Criston is training them to be the newest members of the Kingsguard.”
“Wow.” you sounded from next to him, mesmerized by the clash of the swords.
“Impressive, hm?” he then pointed to another man who was supervising the training “Ser Criston, over there, he is the best knight in all the realms. I hope to train under him and be as good as he is one day.”
He was eager to start training with the sword, like his older brother already did. His mother had promised him that he could start his own training after his next nameday, though it was still a few moons away, he was already eagerly waiting for that moment.
“You be amazing knight in future, Aem.” you turned towards him then, that look of pure reverence made warmth spread in his chest, for he felt your words were true.
“Aem?!” a familiar voice cackled behind the two of you, and Aemond could feel the cold dread seeping into his heart like it usually did when his brother decided to torment him.
Aegon marched over in your direction, almost an entire head taller than Aemond, and ruffled his younger brother’s hair with a tad more force than necessary.
“Oh, Aemy, you will be such an amazing knight one day.” he spoke in a poor imitation of your own voice, high pitched and overly sweet and dreamy. Your face was scrunched in anger and poorly contained humiliation, and had the two of you not been under scrutiny Aemond would have found it adorable.
“Aegon, stop it!” he tried defending the two of you but he couldn’t stop his own cheeks from lighting up in embarrassment.
“Aemy, oh, Aem. Perhaps our mothers will marry us off to one another and I can carry your children.” Aegon chuckled before flicking his brother on the forehead “You would surely want that, wouldn’t you, you twat?”
You couldn’t take it anymore. With a warcry unbefitting of a princess of the realm you delivered a sharp kick to Aegon’s shin, the only part of him you could really reach, before running off with tiny droplets streaming down your cheeks. Aemond tried going after you, holding your wrist, but you swatted his hand away and disappeared around the corner.
“She attacked me!” Aegon complained, voice strained from the intensity of the blow, utterly baffled at how something so small could carry so much strength.
“Oh, please!” Aemond pushed past his brother, annoyed, before stomping away towards his own quarters “It barely scratched. And you deserved it.”
For the next three days you ignored both of them, preferring to spend your days with Heleana. Whenever he asked about you, his mother would claim you didn’t wish for visitors and would rather stay in the company of your aunt. Aemond couldn’t deny that it stung, the only person he felt cared for him deeply, no longer wanting to spend time with him.
So he was overjoyed when, on the fourth day, you approached him as if nothing had ever happened, your expression light and smile bright as you held his hand.
“Where we going, uncle?” and his face fell, joy completely dissipating and giving way to sadness.
You refused to call him by his previous nickname after that day, opting to refer to him only as ‘uncle’ going forward, and Aemond felt an overwhelming longing for things to go back to the way they were. He couldn’t help the resentment he felt towards Aegon for ruining what you had, for he felt it in his bones that things between the two of you would never truly be the same again.
2. Jason Lannister
You were bored out of your very mind at the moment. You had zoned out completely and could barely hear the incessant droning of Jason Lannister’s voice in the background as you reflected upon your life at the moment.
After that night in the bathtub where you shared your very first kiss with your uncle, you feared things between the two of you would change, and change for the worse. You didn’t want that, cherishing what you had with Aemond, even if it never went anywhere beyond friendship. But you needn’t have worried so much, for both of you seemed adamant in not ever speaking of that night ever again. It did sting a little if you were being honest with yourself, but you preferred that over ruining what you had.
So you were very much looking forward to spending a few hours with him before lunch when you were intercepted by Ser Jason Lannister.
“You look wonderful today, my princess.” the man had smiled down at you.
“Uh, thank you, my lord.” you answered, confused as to what he could possibly want.
“Why don’t you give me the pleasure of going on a stroll with me around the gardens?”
You didn’t know why he wanted to take a stroll with you of all people. And to be fair you didn’t want to spend more time than necessary in his presence. What you did want was to find Aemond and spend your day with him. But something, a strange sense of propriety and duty, held you back and you found yourself agreeing with his proposal.
That’s how you ended in the current situation, arm looped with his as he droned on and on and on about himself and his wealth and his castle and many other topics you couldn’t care less about.
In your reverie you hadn’t even realized you had reached the training grounds until Aemond, who had just finished his training session with Ser Criston, smiled and waved at you as he was putting a wooden shield away. You were about to wave back when Ser Jason’s voice pulled your attention back to him once more.
“Well, princess, this is where we must part ways, unfortunately.” he gave a small bow of his head before letting go of your arm “The maesters say it is good to keep active, so I will go see if I can find a sparring partner.”
You barely spared him a courtesy as Aemond was already by your side, ready to whisk you away.
“What was that all about?” he asked when you were already halfway to the library, a sense of unease pulling at his heartstrings once he remembered the way your arm was linked with the older lord.
“I do not know for sure.” you shrugged “I barely paid attention to what he was saying. Something about his riches I believe, we just went on a walk around the Keep.”
He laughed then, though it lacked any mirth, and his smile no longer reached his eyes.
“What is it?”
“You are so naïve, niece.” he explained.
“And why is that?” you questioned, feeling slightly offended.
“He wishes to court you.”
Your disgust at the thought must have been reflected very clearly upon your face, for he let out a full, genuine laugh this time.
“B-But- why?!” you tried collecting your thoughts, flabbergasted by such revelation “He is so…”
“Arrogant? Boring? Plain? All of the above?” Aemond completed for you, jesting at the situation.
“Old!” you whined and he laughed even harder at your expanse “I mean it! He is older than my own father!” you got closer to him to whisper conspiratorially at him “I heard he courted mother when she was looking for a husband, and he was already considered too old for her at the time.”
His laughter echoed around the halls, a few servants stopping to stare at the two of you, dumbfounded at the way you seemed to be able to bring the usually stoic prince out of his shell.
“But why does he wish to court me? Why not some other, older, lady?” you asked, still confused.
“Well, you are not just any lady, mandianna. You are a princess.” he explained, though his words seemed practiced, like they were reflections of not his own thoughts but those of other people “Any lord would jump at the opportunity to wed you. Chances are, in fact, that more suitors will start to flock around you for attention as you grow.”
“Ugh!” your shoulders slumped under the weight of your frustration “I do not wish to marry these lords!” you threw your hands up in exasperation “I just wish to spend my days with you and Helaena! Why can I not just marry you, then?!”
He felt a twinge too tight of happiness at the notion, but chose to ignore it and listen as you continued with your rant.
“If I were to marry one of these lords I would be miserable!”
His face softened in sympathy, remembering the conversation he overheard between his mother and grandsire regarding Aegon and Heleana’s betrothal. He felt pained for his sister, for he knew Aegon would not treat her how she deserved, and now he was seeing the same pattern with you.
“It is our duty, I fear, to find matches that best interest our House.” he spoke softly, but you turned towards him infuriated, and he feared he said the wrong thing.
“But I do not want to marry for duty!” his heart clenched in his chest as he noticed your eyes brimming with tears “I want a husband who loves and cares for me, like father and mother!”
He held back his tongue, knowing that speaking his mind about the kind of love between your parents, or lack thereof, would only upset you further. There was no denying that Ser Laenor cared deeply for Rhaenyra, just not in the way a husband should a wife.
The both of you stayed quiet for a moment, you simmering in your unsettled thoughts and him disappointed he couldn’t comfort you further, for this was something that was out of his hands.
“I would not mind, you know?” he heard you speak softly, turning his head to find you already looking at him.
“What?”
“Marrying you.” you smiled softly at him “At least with you I would be content. I could see us being happy, even.”
Your words were a soothing balm over his heart, making it clench in his chest. He, too, did find the notion appealing, he could be happy with you, hells, you already made him happy.
“If it matters,” he spoke, trying to hide his true feelings behind a layer of nonchalance “I would not mind marrying you either.”
Your smile brightened then, and you bumped your shoulder with his.
“One can dream, right?” you giggled, before sighing once a servant came to fetch you to clean up before lunch, annoyed that your time with him had been cut short.
But as you walked away an idea formed in his mind, and with a determination he hadn’t felt in a really long time, he set off to find his half-sister.
3. Alicent Hightower
“No.” the Queen’s voice was harsh, and Aemond’s heart filled with dread as he peaked from his hiding place behind a pillar in her solar. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop but his traitorous heart was too anxious to wait.
“Come on, your grace.” Rhaenyra answered, clearly annoyed, a hand placed on her very pregnant stomach and another on her lower back, as if standing here arguing was bringing her physical discomfort “The boy came to me, begging for her hand in marriage, all that was left was for him to fall to his knees. She herself has asked about the possibility of marrying him once. They are the perfect match!”
After your conversation earlier that day, Aemond had set off to find Rhaenyra and ask, no, beg her to allow him to court and eventually marry you. She had laughed in his face, and he tried not to show how her dismissal wounded his pride, until her face softened once she realized he was serious.
“Please, sister.” he had even stooped so low as to address their familial bond, no matter how sour the word tasted in his mouth “Allow me to marry her. As her husband, she would want for nothing, I would protect her with my very life. And I could even… make her happy.”
Rhaenyra’s face softened then, for the first time realizing how much her little brother truly cared for her daughter. She had known the two of you were close, but the depth of your feelings for one another was only now being revealed to her. So she promised him she would speak with his own mother, and if Alicent agreed, then so would she. Aemond’s heart had plummeted then, knowing it would be a lot harder getting through his mother. But he wouldn’t give up hope.
But hope, it seemed, was not enough.
“No, and my answer is final.” Alicent moved about, trying to get Rhaenyra to leave and go bother someone else.
“Alicent,” even though she had her back towards him, Aemond could imagine the tick in his mother’s eye at the informal way Rhaenyra was addressing her “All I am asking is that you consider it.”
“Why do you even think they would be a good match for one another?”
“Oh, by the Gods, Alicent! Can you not see how much they care for each other? The amount of time they spend together? They are practically glued at the hip at this point!” Rhaenyra threw her hands up in exasperation, and Aemond could see yourself so perfectly in your mother’s image “I will just ask my father then.”
“Do not entertain that idea even for a moment!” Alicent’s voice became shrill as she glared at her former friend “What is this even about, hm? Are you so afraid that child” and she pointed at Rhaneyra’s prominent bump “will be born sooner or later bearing a striking resemblance to a certain commander of the City Watch once more that you resort to this… this scheming? To secure your line of succession, is that it?”
Ouch. That was low, even for Alicent’s standards.
Rhaenyra’s face hardened as she stepped closer to the Queen, and for a moment fear gripped Aemond’s heart that he was about to witness his mom get battered.
“My brother, your own son” she spat out, genuinely angry now “begged me to let him marry my daughter when they are older. He promised me he would be a good husband, and for once in my life I am inclined to believe him.” her face softened then, raising her hands as if to grab Alicent’s but let them drop, thinking better than to try and touch her “Please, your grace. If there is still any care left in your heart for the love we once held for one another, please let me do this for him.”
Aemond waited with bated breath for his mother to say something, anything. For once in his life he allowed himself to hope; he’d give up everything, even his dream of having a dragon of his own, just so she’d say yes. But the longer she went without saying anything, the deeper the cracks in his heart became.
“I will not be able to change your mind, will I?” Rhaenyra asked, her face contorting in sympathy, and when Alicent shook her head, breaking his heart in a thousand tiny little pieces in the process, she sighed “Then I feel sorry for Aemond. For both of them.”
As Rhaenyra left the Queen’s solar, Aemond took his leave as well, his heart shattered and a weight heavy on his stomach, regretting even going to his half-sister in the first place. It seemed you and he could never be after all.
4. Rhaenyra Targaryen
Tears streamed down your face as you ran through the cold tunnels of Maegor’s Holdfast, not caring even for a moment that you were only dressed in a nightgown. The news you had just heard from your father regarding your mother’s decision weighed heavily in your heart, and you had to share them with your uncle immediately. It couldn’t wait until the morrow, because come first light you might be gone.
“Hells, niece, will you ever learn to knock?” Aemond had turned towards you once you barged inside his chambers through the secret door, freezing once he noticed the state you were in. He was in front of you in a second, holding your cheeks in his palms and forcing you to look at him “What happened?”
Even though his image was blurred by the tears that kept on rolling down your cheeks, barely noticing when he started collecting them with his thumbs, you could perfectly see the concern etched upon his features, and that was all it took for you to release the sobs you had been holding back, falling into his arms and hiccuping against his shoulder.
“Mandianna, what happened?!” he asked, holding your trembling figure in his arms and awkwardly trying to console you, running a gentle hand up and down your back. He had never seen you in such a state before, and he did not truly know how to help, much less without knowing the cause of your distress.
Once you had calmed down enough, your wails reduced to soft sniffles, you pulled back from him, running the back of your hand through your face to try and look more presentable.
“Mother has decided to move us to Dragonstone.”
Aemond’s breath hitched then.
“What?” he whispered, taking a step back from you.
“Father just told me. We are to leave King’s Landing come first light in the morrow.”
He felt his whole world crumbling before his very eyes then. He believed his heart could no longer face more damage, for it had already been broken when he overheard his mother and Rhaenyra’s conversation a sennight before, but he felt it shatter all over again at your words.
“C-Can you not stay behind?” With me?, he wanted to ask as his own eyes started filling with tears.
“I asked, but father says we are all to go. Me, Jace, Luke and baby Joffrey.”
His heart was beating widely in his chest, twisting painfully at the prospect of having to face everyday at court without you to keep him company, to keep him sane.
“We can write, of course, but-” you started, voice still trembling.
“It will not be the same.” he completed for you.
It was true, wasn’t it? Things were about to change. On one hand he wouldn’t have to face the teasing from Jace and Luke, just Aegon, the main instigator. But on the other hand he would lose you, which was so much worse.
But then he noticed how your lower lip had started quivering again and realized he had put quite a lot of distance between the two of you. Not wanting you to jump to the wrong conclusions he crossed the space he had created and cupped your cheeks, looking sternly into your eyes.
“It does not change anything.”
“Aemond-” you looked at him with sympathy and disbelief but he wasn’t having it.
“No. It does not change anything between us.” he spoke, determined “I will write to you every single day, and I expect a response every time. It will be like you never left. You can fly on dragonback and come visit. And when I get my dragon, I will visit you in return.”
Your smile, although tentative and still wobbly, returned to your face and he felt relief wash through him.
“You said so yourself, the lines promised me I will have a dragon.” he rejoiced at hearing you giggle “I have to make good use of them when time comes.”
A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. Something in your eye, glimmering with a blazing hope, compelled Aemond to lean forward, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he took everything in.
“We will still be the same.” he felt you move, nodding against his head, never once moving away “We will still be us.”
And even though, or perhaps exactly because neither of you could prevent the events that would unfold in the following weeks, both of you believed it with every ounce of your souls.
5. Aemond Targaryen
“Aemond.” you knocked once more, your knuckles red and starting to ache from their incessant contact with the hard wood “Qȳbor, please open the door.”
He hadn’t left his temporary chambers in days, and no one would let you see him. After the whole ordeal with Vhagar and the fight between your two mothers in the grand hall at Driftmark after the loss of his eye, Aemond was whisked away to the quarters he was stationed at during his stay so the maesters could work properly on his wound and for him to sleep off the copious amounts of milk of the poppy he had been given.
Having talked to your brothers and cousins and understood what had gone down, you started feeling a tad guilty for the way you reacted to it. Yes, you were still hurt over what he had said about your brothers and, by extension, you. But at the same time you had let him go when he was the most vulnerable, he had just lost an eye for the Gods’ sake. And yet, even though you were hurting, so was he, he needed you and yet you let go and ran from him.
So you had decided you needed to talk. Perhaps, if you apologized for Luke’s actions and your own behavior, he’d offer an apology of his own, for calling your brothers bastards and for not extending Rhaena the courtesy of trying to claim her late mother’s dragon before him. Then, having cleared the air, you could move past this and go back to the way things were, with exchanged letters and promises of visiting one another.
But your attempts seemed futile. There was always a guard stationed in front of his door, denying you entrance every single time you asked. Even though they were stern, hardened by their training, you tried using your authority as princess to order them to let you through, but to no such luck.
“Apologies, princess.” they would say, a smidge of sympathy and annoyance in their tone “The prince is to receive no visitors. Orders from her grace, the Queen.”
Panic was starting to grip at your heart, for your time was running out. Eventually, as soon as Aemond was recovered enough to travel, King Viserys and his family would leave Driftmark and return to King’s Landing. By then it would be too late. If you didn’t speak to him now, you would lose Aemond forever. That is, if you hadn’t already lost him for good. You had to speak to him, and it had to be soon, otherwise he’d leave and you would lose the one person you cared most in the world, who understood you like no one else, and would be left to drown in your own loneliness.
So you started scheming. You waited around the corridor of his chambers, waiting for rotation of the guard so you could catch his door unattended. You almost managed once, but Queen Alicent opened the door to exit the room, stopping dead in her tracks once she came face to face with you, about to knock.
“Your grace!” you were quick to recompose yourself “I came to visit the prince. I wish to see if he is faring well.”
You winced, instantly regretting your choice of words once her face hardened. Of course he wasn’t faring well, he just lost his bloody eye!
“Aemond is not receiving any visitors.” her voice was harsh, and dread overcame you as she started to walk away.
“Wait!” she stopped but didn’t turn around to face you as you pleaded “I just- I just want to see him.”
When she did turn her features were laced with a combination of disdain and pity. It stirred something so deep inside you you almost recoiled and ran, but you decided to endure.
“He doesn’t wish to see anyone, princess.” she spoke, her tone stern yet motherly. But the implications of her words were not lost on you.
He doesn’t wish to see you.
It hurt, tears brimming in your eyes as you turned around and headed for your chambers.
Did he truly not wish to see you? Or did he just wish for solitude, away from everyone? Could your friendship still be mended after both of you had been hurt like this?
It didn’t matter, afterall, for you were determined to try until the very end.
That’s how you found yourself in front of his door, finally alone with him, having waited patiently for the guard’s rotation and making sure his mother wasn’t around. It was his final night in Driftmark before he was set to return to the capitol, and so this was your last, final chance to talk to him before that.
There was a light flickering inside his chambers, visible from under the door, so you knew he likely wasn’t asleep, and when you had knocked for the first time, you heard a thud coming from inside, like he had bumped into some furniture, so you believed he had listened to you. But no matter how many times you knocked, he wouldn’t open it, nor give any indication that he was listening.
“Aemond, please.” you tried again “Please, let us talk.”
The longer you went without an answer, the tighter the knot that was forming in your throat became. Growing desperate, you laid your forehead on the cold, damp wood.
“Please.” you breathed out, not even sure he could hear you now “Talk to me, Aemond. Please.”
For a moment, a short, passing moment, you heard a flutter of movement from inside the room. Your breath hitched, a tiny flicker of unadulterated hope burning in your chest that he had heard you and was coming to talk. But it was quickly snuffed out when you heard nothing else follow.
A deep ache took over your chest, like something had dug its claws in your heart and squeezed. The inevitability of it all, the looming sense of grief over something so close yet impossibly far, out of your grasp completely, clouded your mind and had your ears ringing.
“I am sorry.” you said, taking a step back and turning around to leave “For everything.”
As you walked away you couldn’t help but feel like a part of you was missing. For you had just lost him for good. Perhaps forever.
+1
As you brushed off your skirts, having been sat on the grass by the weirwood tree, you set off to find your mother, determination written across your features.
You nearly ran into Luke as you walked briskly, sending a thankful look to Rhaena as she helped you steady him.
“Where are you off to in such a rush?” Jace asked as he came up behind your brother at the same time you bypassed him and Baela and continued on your way.
“To secure myself a husband!” you shouted over your shoulder, not even turning back around to address them. Now all that was left was to find your mother.
And search for her you did. It was imperative that you found her quickly, for you wanted to make sure you did this tonight. It had to be tonight. No one knew how much longer the King would live, and the moment he drew his final breath, a war would break out within your family. A war that would ravage all of the Seven Kingdoms. So you had to make sure that didn’t happen while your grandire was still alive and lucid enough to give you his full support.
But Rhaenyra was nowhere to be found. The Keep was huge and there was a probability that you were both on the move and simply never crossing paths. You even stumbled upon Helaena during your search as she tended to her youngest son, Maelor.
“Have you seen my mother, aunt?” you asked after a brief and sweet exchange, though you did not hug her like you would Baela and Rhaena, for you knew she did not like to be touched.
“I have not, niece.” she bounced baby Maelor in her arms as he cooed up at her “Why are you in such a haste to find her, if I might ask?”
“I have something of utmost importance to discuss with her.” you smirked as you added next, and by the glimmer in her eyes she understood the hidden meaning of your words “I believe I have found myself a suitable husband and must ask her to arrange our betrothal as soon as possible.”
“Oh!” she smiled brightly then “So we might be celebrating tonight.”
To your surprise and confusion, her smile faltered just a bit, her eyes becoming unfocused, before she smiled brightly again.
“With a union forged in fire and blood, the dragon’s nest is put to rest.”
You dared not question her, for Helaena often spoke in riddles, even in your youth. Biding her farewell you went back to your task. You didn’t have to search long though, for you quite literally bumped into your mother and Daemon right as you were turning down the corridor from Helaena’s chambers.
“Mother!” you exclaimed as you helped Daemon steady a once again very pregnant Rhaenyra “There you are!”
“You were looking for me, darling?” she asked.
“Yes.” you cleared your throat, squaring your shoulders “I wish for a husband.”
That seemed to take both of them by surprise, their eyes widening.
“O-Oh!” she smiled then, still confused where this was coming from “And did you have someone in mind?”
“I wish to take Aemond as my husband.”
“Darling.” her face softened in pity as Daemon scoffed “You know the Queen would never allow this union.”
“That’s not all, mother. I think I may have found a way neither she nor the Hand could refuse.”
Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged a curious glance with one another.
“Let us hear it then.” your step-father encouraged.
“I want Aemond as my husband.” you took a steadying breath, knowing you’d have to argue the next part “And I want him to be King.”
“Absolutely not!” was Daemon’s reaction, while your mother just looked… betrayed. And it broke your heart. You knew what she was thinking, she had just reaffirmed you as her heir, had to fight for it, and you now want to pass that off to someone else entirely?
“Please allow me to explain.”
“Why would you suggest such a thing?! To that cunt, of all people!” Daemon kept on raging, but his words were abruptly cut short as Rhaenyra raised her hand.
“Let her speak.” her tone was firm, and you knew you had to choose your next words carefully to plead your case.
“Word has come to me of a… plot against you as King Viserys’ heir.” her face twitched in anger for just a moment “The Queen and the Hand will try to instate Aegon as King once grandsire passes.”
“What is new?” Daemon laughed, incredulous.
“And the noble houses would back his claim.” you explained “Many will not recognize you as the legitimate heir-”
“But-” your mother tried cutting you off but you continued over her.
“-regardless of the oath they swore years ago. Simply because Aegon has a cock and you do not.” you hated how crass you sounded, but you had to get the point across “And then a bloody civil war would break out, for you would not let this go unpunished, am I wrong?”
Rhaenyra pondered for a moment before nodding, and you took that as a sign to continue.
“A war between us, dragonlords, would absolutely decimate not only our House but also the realm. But a marriage alliance between me, your heir and future Queen, and my uncle might just make them give up on this quest.”
“Otto would never settle for his blood being just consort.” Daemon argued.
“That is why he would not be consort.” you smirked, the catch you were waiting to reveal slipping from your lips.
“You shouldn’t give up your claim and be consort either!” your mother exclaimed.
“I would not do such a thing. I would be the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Both of them looked baffled.
“Now you have lost me.” she said.
“When the time comes, both me and Aemond would be crowned Queen and King, and we would rule together as equals. No consorts.”
Rhaenyra took a step back from surprise, and Daemon looked like he was told the realm’s funniest joke.
“You cannot be serious, tala!” he chuckled, but there was an undertone of disbelief to it.
“It could work.” your mother spoke to herself.
“Rhaenyra, you cannot be entertaining this ridiculous idea!” Daemon turned towards her then, wringing his hands as if to stop himself from grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her “It is not tradition!”
“Fuck tradition!” you exclaimed a lot more harshly than you intended, and probably a lot harsher than it was appropriate.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough.
“You being heir over Aegon already breaks tradition as it is. Like I said, many will not see you as legitimate. But even if they do, and you are able to rule, the same thing would happen to me and Jace. But will you make all the great houses swear another oath to you?” Rhaneyra understood where you were going with this “Having a husband to back me up as heir, to rule alongside me, would give me strength in my own claim. If you are already breaking traditions, what is one more, eh?”
“You might want to keep your voice down.” Daemon spoke lowly, and you noticed he was staring at someone “The walls have ears in this Keep.”
From the corner of your eye you saw a familiar figure, and in a moment of panic, grabbed your mother’s hand and pulled her towards the temporary chambers you were housed in. You did not want Aemond to overhear what you had to say, fearful that should anyone hear about this ahead of time it would all crumble to shambles. As Daemon joined you two, shortly after, you continued.
“Please, please mother! Think about it. It might be the only way.”
Rhaenyra was silent. While Daemon looked vexed, but made no further complaints, she looked deep in thought. You knew she knew you were right. She just had to see it for herself.
“It would be easier to convince them if we had the King’s approval. That is why we need to do this tonight, at supper.”
Daemon bristled but didn’t say anything. Your mother on the other hand agreed, even if she believed this was all very rushed.
“Would you be happy though?” she then asked, and it was your turn to be surprised “Marrying Aemond? After everything that has happened?”
You looked between her and Daemon, and for once in your life you were certain of what you wanted.
“Aemond has always been kind to me. Or most of the time, at least.” you shrugged “I believe, with due time, we could put our differences aside and rebuild what we once had. Perhaps even learn to love each other.”
Again, you meant. Learn to love each other again. At least in your case.
“Then it is settled.” she looked determined “We will pitch this proposition tonight.”
A wave of relief washed over you. This could work, genuinely actually work. Perhaps it didn’t have to end in bloodshed like you believed it would. Maybe your family could be whole again. And all of that at the cost of marrying the one you had longed for deeply in your heart once.
“He asked for your hand once, you know.” Rhaenyra broke you out of your trance, a soft smile on her face and a far away look in her eyes, as if she was reminiscing on a fond memory. Daemon had left at some point, leaving you both alone to share this conversation, too deep and personal for anyone else to hear, in private “Right before we left for Dragonstone.”
Your heart clenched in your chest at the revelation. He had wished to marry you as well?
“He said he could make you happy. And I believed him.” she then looked at you, cupping your cheek as pride took over her smile “I believe it still.”
You grasped at her wrist, feeling warm at the love you could feel it emanating from her.
“If you believe you could be happy as well,” she continued “then you have my blessing. That is all I want.”
You nodded, blinking back tears.
“I do. I will be very happy.”
She nodded then, pulling you into her arms. In the safety of your mother’s embrace, you finally let yourself relax. Your fate was yours to shape how you saw fit, and you intended to make the most of it.
And you would.
High Valyrian translations: - mandianna - niece (older sister’s son or daughter) - qȳbor - uncle (mother’s younger brother) - tala - daughter (meant here affectionately, not by blood, as there are no terms for step-relative in High Valyrian)
Tag List:
@callsignwidow
@sleephereicome
@bitchassgoose
@voguiing
@dibutw
@fruityvampslayer
@garden-in-the-rain
@queen-of-elves
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x f!reader#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader#aemond targaryen x niece!reader#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic
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clarisse x reader where y/n had been noticing clarisse like getting distant( like not holding her hand for more then 4 seconds just small stuff that only y/n notices😭) and then the day percy breaks her spear she's mad and y/n trys calming her down but clarisse just yells at her about how clingy she is and to leave her alone and basically she regrets it and apologizes multiple times and after like a week y/n forgives her and it's cute (I NEEDDDD THE PLAYING HARD TO GET PLS I HATE WHEN SHE FORGIVES HER EASILY)
I Miss You, I'm Sorry
pairing: clarisse x apollo!reader
summary: clarisse is distant and cold, and y/n is officially done.
warnings: none?? i don't think?
-
you'd been with clarisse for around three years now. at first, a lot of people were confused. clarisse was, essentially, one big ball of anger, and you were a ball of sunshine. after a while, though, it made sense. you balanced each other out. plus, clarisse was a lot softer with you.
but recently, clarisse had been acting different. ever since percy jackson came to camp, actually. she was a lot more angry. and perhaps it was because you'd welcomed him to camp and generally tried to be nice to him. you couldn't help it, he reminded you of your brother, who had a mortal dad and stayed at home with your mom.
when you'd sneak to the ares table during meals, she'd hardly acknowledge you. when you tried to hold her hand, she'd let you, for all of six seconds. you weren't sure why. you hadn't done anything to personally anger her, had you?
you must have. because even as the two of you got ready for capture the flag, she ignored you.
"hey, claire?" you said, turning to her. you were just about the only one she let give her a nickname, and you'd settled on claire. "can you help me with my armor? i think it's crooked."
"you can do it yourself, i'm sure."
you frowned. she'd usually jump at the opportunity to help you- to touch you, to breathe the same air as you.
what did you do wrong?
you had one of your siblings fix it for you.
-
luke had outrun you with the flag when you heard a scream from the beach. you recognized it.
"clarisse!" you shouted, bolting towards the sound.
when you got there, you saw clarisse sitting before percy, her broken spear between them.
you ran to her side and helped her up as the other team began celebrating their win.
"claire, i am so sorry about your spear. we-- i can fix it! or i can have one of the athena kids do it! someone should know how, right? probably. yeah, we'll have them fix it, and it'll be-"
"can you just leave me alone?" clarisse snapped.
you froze. pulled your hands away, and retreated into yourself.
"oh," you said, clearing your throat.
"gods, you're just so clingy! i just need five minutes of peace."
"oh."
that's when she seemed to realize she hurt your feelings. she sighed, her face softening, "y/n-"
"i'm gonna go."
"i didn't mean it like that-"
"yeah. i'm sure you didn't."
you crossed your arms as you walked away, resisting the urge to cry.
-
DAY 1
during dinner that night, clarisse came up to the apollo table.
"y/n?" she asked.
you kept pushing the food around your plate, ignoring her.
"y/n." she repeated.
she sighed.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean it-"
without saying anything, you stood up and walked off.
clarisse didn't follow.
-
DAY 2
you were sitting by the lake, your feet in the water. you heard someone come from behind, and you knew who it was.
you sighed.
“y/n..” she started.
“i’m not talking to you,” you stated. you crossed your arms and kicked your feet in the water.
“please, i’m sorry—“
“i don’t care. you really hurt my feelings, clarisse. you could’ve just told me you want space instead of acting like you hate me.”
“i don’t—“
“just go, clarisse.”
she sighed and didn’t fight you anymore.
-
DAY 5
clarisse had done what you asked for the past few days. she didn’t come up to you or try to apologize.
you were getting ready for bed, braiding your younger sister’s hair, when someone knocked on the cabin door.
assuming it was some late night check, you sighed.
“i’ll get it.”
you walked over to the door and opened it, and clarisse was standing there.
you didn’t even let her speak before you shut the door.
“who was that?” lee asked.
“no one,” you shrugged, sitting back on the bed and resuming the braids.
-
DAY 6
“why don’t you just talk to her?” percy asked you. you offered to help him train with the water as best as you could.
“because. i usually do, but she’s been rude to me for a few weeks now. i just wanna makes sure she knows i won’t put up with it.”
percy shrugged, “makes sense, i guess.”
even though you had a poker face around clarisse, it did make you sad every time you shut her down or pushed her away.
you just wanted your girlfriend back.
-
DAY 7
after dinner, you really just wanted to go to your cabin and sleep. however, when you opened the door, a bunch of candles were lit.
“what the—“
clarisse was standing next to your bed with a bouquet of flowers. they were your favorites— hibiscus. they didn’t grow anywhere near long island, so she must have gotten a demeter kid to get her some.
“i’m sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have snapped at you. i just.. i’ve worked my whole life at camp to be recognized by my dad, and percy gets all this fame and glory in a few weeks. it’s not an excuse, but i just.. wanted to explain myself,” she said, extending the flowers toward you.
you kept your arms crossed.
“i want to be around you all the time. i didn’t mean to act like i don’t wanna be with you, because i do. i mean.. besides, who else is able to calm me down?”
and that made you laugh, “nobody,” you took the flowers. “thank you for the flowers. no one’s ever gotten me these.”
she shrugged, “i figured it was about time you got your favorite flowers.”
you smiled and quickly turned to her.
“so.. we’re good?”
“we’re good,” you nod and plant your lips on hers.
-
a/n: YAYAYAYAT FIRST CLARISSE IMAGINE / BLURB / DRABLE IDK THE CLASSIFICATION!!!!
#clarisse la rue#clarisse x reader#clarisse la rue x reader#pjo#pjo x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy series#heroes of olympus#x reader#apollo!reader
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Let Him Cook Pt4
Series Part 1, 2, 3, 4
Taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minseok-smaus @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej @weekendlusting @janeholt3 @evie-119 @leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13 @itsjustkhaos
Y/NCooks just posted a photo.
Y/NCooks Finally some vitamin seaaaaaaaaaaaaa
User1 Oh she is living the life!
Friend1 Say hi to the boyfriend for me
YNCooks he says hi Friend1 enjoy lovebirds!!!
User2 She is so hot and her boyfriend is equally hot. Power couple!
User3 Something about that back and that filter seems kinda familiar.
User4 OMG right? Its like I know it from somewhere but I can't pinpoint it. User5 I thought I was the only one but it seems like its really familiar.
User6 Its giving a pinterest vibes! She is everything I aspire to be.
User7 Are you still the one in-charge of cooking Y/N?
Y/NCooks Yuppp. But don't worry because he lifts the grocery and pays for the food, its an equal relationship User8 The boyfriend seems like a catch
User9 God when will it be me?
Charles_Leclerc just posted a photo.
Charles_Leclerc good food and good company
User1 Who is that??? Who is that hand?????
User2 Charles is finally breaking his single streak, a sad day for all the Charles girlies
PierreGasly Oh so that's why your boat was missing Charles_Leclerc I'm not discussing it here PierreGasly We just want to know, who is the lucky lady User3 Ohmygod Pierre just found out just like we all did
User4 That blue filter is back
User5 Just when we thought he forgot about it
User6 why is everyone and their partners softlaunching in a yacht
User7 who else is in a yacht? User6 There's this homecook and masterchef winner named Y/N that is softlaunching their partner on a yacht User7 Oh bestie that back looks familiar, don't you think User9 User9 SUSPICIOUS!!! User9 Nah, I highly doubt Charles can bag a chef. I mean the man couldn't cook pasta and its just pasta User7 you are probably right, im just delulu
"This is getting mildly annoying"Charles pouted "Usually they are quick to connect the pieces"
"All in due time honey"
It was actually a funny thing for you since fans find it highly impossible that Charles could bag a chef as his partner. You wouldn't tell Charles but you admit that his cooking skills is not a major selling point to a lot of chefs out there.
Ever since MasterChef ended, you two have been open about going public. The relationship has been kept in wraps for over 3 years so Charles is feeling pretty confident that it has already been a tested by time. But more than that, Charles opened up how he wanted to go public so that he'll be able to showcase his support.
"I can't wait for them to figure it out just so I can tell the world that I am the luckiest guy in the world for having you as my partner" he clings to you as a loopy smile appears on his face.
"And I can't wait to showcase the world how you have been drastically improving with your cooking skills" you smile "You can be my sous chef when you are off season"
"I'm not really sure if you are being sarcastic but I'll take this as a win and I'm considering myself masterchef approved"
The Gordon incident
There were 5 missed calls from Charles which made you slightly worried. You were unable to answer the call since you were driving home. You immediately rushed to the apartment and you saw a weird scenario. Charles was spread out on the floor, face down and seems to be in pain.
"What happened to you?"you asked as you set down your bag at the counter.
"Leave me be, I am a disgrace. I have fallen from heaven." Charles moped.
"Seriously honey, what's going on. You are scaring me"
Charles only lifted his phone for you to look at. You looked at it and it was a screenshot from Twitter with a quote tweet from Gordon about the pasta incident.
"Charles, you can't bag a chef if your cooking is as disastrous as that. Call me when you have the time-Oh my god. Gordon did not just say that" you burst out laughing.
"Laugh in my misery, go ahead and laugh."
You have to contain your giggles but then you cannot seem to help yourself. Charles continued to mope at the floor how no one will believe that you are his girlfriend now.
"It was just one time that I wasn't able to cook pasta properly, one time"
"Yes honey but the internet is forever"
After a while, Charles got up and you were slightly confused when he started bringing out the pots and pans out of the cupboard. He took out some of the pasta and then he grabbed his apron.
"You are going to teach me and we won't stop till I get a good pasta redemption" Charles said with full determination.
There was a bright idea that suddenly popped in your head, "I think I can do something better than that"
You started to type in your phone and after a while your phone started ringing. A familiar face on the screen and Charles almost fainted after hearing the accent.
"YOU GOT GORDON ON SPEED DIAL TO TEACH ME?"
Dinner with the drivers
The Australian Grand Prix was the first time that you actually met Charles' friends and former teammates. Charles arranged for an exclusive dinner with the grid drivers of 2025 in your restaurant.
"How did you get a reservation here Charles? I have been trying to get one for my parents, they love the Chef here and supported her during the masterchef days"Oscar asked.
"I know someone" Charles was trying his best to suppress his grin and elaborate further.
"Make sure to tell me later, I would love to bring my parents here. Cheers mate"
Dinner went on progressively well. There were variation of cuisines available and it catered to their specific Even Lewis loved that the vegan option was vast and Nando even agrees that if this is how much food options vegan has then he can go Vegan.
It was now tiMe for dessert and some drivers opted for a coffee while some thinks they deserve for a cheat day.
"Is this Ferrari's new strategy to shaving weight?"Max joked "Make the other drivers eat more so the car will be unbalanced"
"Fred is getting more creative with his strategy eh. Last year with my appendix and this year with Charles' food"Carlos agreed
The whole table erupted with the antics but Pierre is dying with curiosity already. Charles kept on mentioning how tonight is a really important night for him to announce something. He can't forget this dinner since its all that Charles has been talking about ever since they arrived in Australia.
"But in all honesty, you said you have something to tell us Charles" Pierre wondered "I'm dying to know"
Charles excused himself for a second and all the drivers on the table watched as he went to the kitchen. You were still in your chef's jacket when Charles spotted you.
"Is it time already? Do I look okay?"
"You look more than gorgeous mon amour"Charles replied, giving you a soft kiss to the cheeks.
The two of you walked out of the kitchen with hands interlaced with one another. The table suddenly fell quiet as they saw the two of you approaching the table. Charles has the most smug grin on his face.
"Everyone, I would like you to introduce the talented and amazing Chef for tonight Y/N" Charles lifted your intertwined hands "And she's also my girlfriend"
The drivers were all silent and shocked as they pieced out everything together. Then the flurry of questions started.
"Did you try Charles' pasta?" "Were you poisoned to say yes to him?" "How on earth did Charles get a MasterChef winner" "Can you teach me how you made the appetizer with the pea and corn"
It was so funny and you two were in a long night for explaining. But as you sat down bext to Charles, you felt at ease. You know that you can handle anything together.
The accidental reveal
Charles_Leclerc just posted a photo.
Charles_Leclerc We’ll do everything together to get as many of those trophies in the years to come
User1 Charles is a future WDC
User2 those trophies needs a little bit of polishing, don't you think?
User3 The dust that they have been collecting
User4 Leave the man alone, he's away from home 24/7
User5 is it just me or did you guys see the MasterChef trophy at the back
User6 isn't that the australian trophy, maybe its the p2 from last year User7 nooo! User5 is right, it has the logo
User8 SIR THAT TROPHY IN THE BACK ISN'T YOURS
landonorris lol since when did you have time to do a sidequest with masterchef while we race User10 LANDO! maxverstappen1 surprised he can hold himself till the end. CarlosSainz55 surprised he can cook Charles_Leclerc uninvited for dinner landonorris NOW WAIT A SECOND
Charles_Leclerc and Y/NCooks posted a photo.
Charles_Leclerc spot the game difference is getting difficult.
User1 Man really said fuck it!
User2 I can't believe this crossover
User3 If someone told me this happened a year ago, I would have laughed at you User4 There is no way Charles_Leclerc Why not, I have lots of redeeming qualities
User5 So you mean to say Charles Leclerc is the boyfriend she has been talking about in MasterChef. How did we not piece this out together?
User6 The adopted by the italian family. The cake after Charles P3 in Jeddah. The long distance relationship. THE LECLERC BROTHERS AS HER CLOSEST FRIENDS. HOW DID WE NOT SEE IT User7 I think its because we think Charles can't bag Y/N Charles_Leclerc you all underestimated me
User8 My new favorite trope, the woman who loves to cook for Gordon and the man who loves to get grilled by Gordon
User9 IM LAUGHING! Remember that tweet Charles_Leclerc I'll have you know that I have improved!
User12 Where can I get Y/N, she is so beautiful and talented
Charles_Leclerc sorry out of stock!!!!
User10 Im laughing at how Charles is fighting everyone in the comment section. He really said, he has time
Y/NCooks posted a photo
Y/NCooks the first two was taken two weeks into dating. We preferred staying indoors and the comforts of the house so we could have our privacy. Charles burned the fries and that's a photo of him insisting it was crispy not burnt // fast forward to two weeks ago when he insisted on cooking pasta and making pizza, it was pretty good. The pasta was actually al dente and the pizza was made from scratch.
Thank you honey for growing with me for the past 3 years. I love you all the way from Melbourne to Monaco (or whichever country you are in rn)
User1 This is so wholesome, I ship them together
User2 CHARLES CREMATED THE FRIES
User3 3 YEARS???? THAT MADE ME EVEN MORE SURPRISED
Gordongram FINALLY. The boyfriend is revealed. Hope I can taste some of your cooking Charles_Leclerc
Charles_Leclerc please have mercy on me Y/NCooks He cooks as much as he can so he can cook for you as a thanks for your tutorial lessons User5 GORDON TAUGHT CHARLES???? WHATTTT
User6 God I have seen what you have done for others
User7 I'm looking back at every post of Y/N about the boyfriend. I think I'm sleeping at the highway
User8 same, they are so lovely with each other
User9 Couple goals!
Charles_Leclerc I love you so much. But I thought you deleted that first date photo
Y/NCooks the internet is forever honeyyyyy User10 I love them so much
landonorris so now the cat is out of the bag, can you teach me how to cook now?
yukitsunoda0511 me tooooo! maxverstappen1 i wanna learn too Charles_Leclerc you're cooking maxverstappen1 ??? maxverstappen1 if you can cook, anyone can cook Charles_Leclerc you are always cooking during the races, let me have this maxverstappen1 no :)) landonorris I JUST WANT COOKING LESSONS!
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BURN AFTER READING. 🍭🍬
i have never made a post with this title before, but i have shared some cpn/speculation that deserve to be burned after reading. lol. this term is often used by cpfs for a candy or info related to the boys that may be “dangerous” — so you have to get rid of it after reading. but for my version of it, let’s describe it as something that is a level up from galaxy brain cpn. it’s the kind of cpn you will think twice or thrice before making up your mind about. 💫
we have (2) topics here and just a disclaimer that i am not confirming anything here. this content is for cpf only. don’t take it seriously!
(1) Who is An Huibo 安慧博?
fans noticed that there was a “stand in” credited for the we and life of us music videos and that is this person. think of it as a body double. it makes sense cause aside from that scene in WE, there are times that xz’s figure is against a backdrop so maybe they needed someone to do that. the clowning began when people were thinking about, what if the other xz in WE mv is actually WYB ⬇️⬇️⬇️
i can think of a couple of different reasons why this could be false but the strongest explanation for me is that xz will not allow wyb to so something like this. he is very superstitious. even if this is just acting, he will not allow them to act out a scene of betrayal. that for me is enough to shut this all down. but on the flipside, maybe wyb wanted him (xz) to play his first villain role opposite him in this music video.
now we have the reasons why fans think this is something worth looking at:
1. XZ and this An Huibo are the only 2 credited actors for both MVs. so it seems kinda special.
2. The director of this is LIN, the same one who directed WYB’s redmi advertisement. There are some CPNs both were made at the same studio. Which makes sense cause LIN has his own shooting studio. There is another separate CPN about this but the gist is we think this director is familiar with both of them. So XZ may be comfortable enough to bring WYB along and even include him in the video.
3. It may not be WYB himself, but he used that name to troll us. It’s so close, Huibo. Yibo.
4. I saw this explanation as well:
If "Anhuibo" is read according to the French transliteration as An Huibo, it would approximately read:
[ã чi bɔ]
·ã: similar to "ang";
·qi: similar to "wei" in Chinese, but lighter and soft;
·bo: similar to "wave", slightly shorter.
5. As a CPF, it’s so easy for our alarm bells to ring if you read that name. An alias of sorts for Bobo. some are saying he used this kind of jumbled name to combat the bad aura of their scene together. Since he is superstitious, this removes yibo’s name and identity as the stand in who stabbed XZ’s character. if that makes sense.
maybe we will know more when they release the behind the scenes video. that is if they show who this stand in is. let’s add this to the bjyx clowning vault in the meantime.
(2) XZ look-alike in the recent GRA
i was talking to @rainbowsky about this and my initial reaction was, cpn aside, i’m surprised at how people notice these things! which i actually should be used to considering turtle’s attention to detail, but still!
so here is the “evidence”
👀👀👀👀
like all other turtles, i’m someone who has stared at tons of photos of XZ. so i can totally understand why people would look twice at this person. i get i. i was staring at this photo for so long as well. however most of the cpfs comment on this is against this candy and they have valid reasons:
1. Why would he attend and be in the audience? XZ is someone lowkey so if he was there to accompany WYB, he will be backstage. Yes he is brave, but not like this — which seems almost careless.
2. There are names on the chair, so it’s not like anyone can just sit there casually.
3. Even if you believe in the probability, CPFs don’t wanna talk much about it cause it can be anti material. Saying XZ has to hide and can’t show his face in GRA. or why is he even there incognito when he doesn’t even have a project nominated. You all know how it goes, antis can twist the narrative. Plus we don’t want to accidentally expose them if this was true. We should not observe too much and post about it cause it will make it harder for them to do something similar in the future.
4. How did this person go unnoticed? Everyone had to get inside the security and there are cameras everywhere. He should have removed his cap and mask which — it’s impossible for someone to not notice XZ ( or is it? ). another thing is maybe he went to a diff entrance??
5. Some are washing it and saying it’s Yibo’s MUA.
Please take that last point i mentioned and carry it over to the reason why this look alike is sus. People are able to confirm that this is not WYB’s MUA because he was wearing a different cap. Even the hair and daresay the ears are not the same. and why would a MUA even be there? If WYB needs touch ups then they should do it backstage. If for some reason it has to be while the broadcast and recording was not on or was on a break, he should not sit there and act like a guest.
Yibo’s MUA, Wang Yiduo has been with him for years. He has years of experience being around celebrities and attending these events before WYB. So he knows the decorum. He will not sit there and act like a guest just because he feels like it.
I’m curious too, who is this person who can walk in— in an event filled with people that are dressed up and then come in with a mask and casual clothes. To be allowed to sit there. Who is special enough? Probably a celebrity? and that’s why some think it could be XZ. Even the staff and assistants during the event are dressed up which made this person stand out. As for the CPN explanation, it’s nice to think that XZ is so proud of Yibo’s nomination that he has to be there. He will find a way to be in the audience and witness this special moment. 💕
I think this can easily be analyzed more if we have the video but i don’t have time to rewatch the whole GRA and wait for this cut. Cause i wanna know if it’s even there, that’s how much we question things here! 🤣 It’s so sus to me that we only have the screenshots and no video when CPFs are notorious for having concrete evidence. personally, it reminds me of the SDC3 incident but this one is still pretty outrageous considering it is a public event.
take what you want with this information. and as always, when it comes to BJYX: ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️
sources: one/ two
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Control - The Reunion
Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader
Word Count: 7,008
Summary: Years after leaving Charming, you’re drawn back into SAMCRO’s world as Opie calls on you for help. When you come face-to-face with Jax for the first time in a decade, the undeniable tension between you resurfaces, stirring old emotions you thought you’d let go of.
Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, Jax being a cocky shit.
A/N: Y’ALL!! The support this little fic of mine has received over the past week has made my Charlie obsessed heart SO HAPPY! I appreciate each and every one of you. So here’s part 2. Also! Not a lawyer and am relying on Google for lawyery things. This is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This one’s going to be a slow burn, I hope you stick around. Feedback - likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated. Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. Please enjoy! 💜
Part 1 - The Beginning
It had been nearly a decade since you left Charming, distancing yourself from the chaos that once consumed your life. A career opportunity had pulled you back to California just over a year ago, far enough from the ghosts of your past but close enough to feel the danger of reopening old wounds. In that time, you’d built a reputation as one of the top defense attorneys at your firm, becoming known for your relentless drive and sharp instincts. The sacrifices—the people, the memories, the pain you walked away from had seemed worth it as you carefully crafted this new life.
That afternoon, you were engrossed in case files, mentally preparing yourself for the courtroom. Your phone buzzed on your desk, and you glanced at the screen, noting the unfamiliar number with a familiar area code. Charming.
You froze, heart skipping a beat. Without thinking, you answered, “Hello?”
There was a pause, a beat too long before you heard a voice that stirred old memories. “Hey… it’s Opie.”
His voice was unmistakable, carrying the weight of years and the unspoken bond you once shared with him and SAMCRO. You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening. You hadn’t heard from Opie in what felt like a lifetime, and yet, hearing him now, everything came rushing back—the long nights, the brotherhood, the laughter, and the pain.
“Opie,” you said, your voice softer, filled with uncertainty. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has,” he replied, his tone thick with emotion. There was no small talk, no easing into it. “Look, uhh—I didn’t wanna bring this to you, but I didn’t know who else to call. It’s about Jax.”
You felt your chest tighten. Jax.
“He got arrested,” Opie continued. “Murder charges.”
The words landed like a punch, knocking the wind out of you. “Murder?” you echoed, barely believing it.
“It’s bullshit,” Opie rushed to explain. “The cops have had it out for him for years. You know how it is in Charming. They’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this, and now they’ve got it. But… we think it’s serious.”
You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself. Jax. It had been years since you thought about him, really thought about him. But now, hearing that he was tangled in something like this, old emotions began to stir. You’d worked hard to bury those feelings, to keep your life separate from what you left behind.
“Opie,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “why me? I’m not part of your world anymore.”
There was a silence on the other end, then he spoke, quieter now, more earnest. “Because we trust you. Jax… he needs someone who will fight for him. You’re the best. I’ve known you were back in California for a while now, just didn’t say anything—cause I respected why you left. But the things you’ve done in court, we need someone like that. He needs someone like that. And to be honest, I—we, only trust you.”
You felt a pang in your chest, hearing the desperation in his voice, the weight of the trust they were placing in you. For a moment, you thought about hanging up, walking away would be the smart thing, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t ignore the pull of Jax Teller.
“I’ll look into it,” you said quietly, the words coming out before you could stop them. “But I’m not making any promises, Ope. This isn’t—”
“I get it,” Opie interrupted, his relief evident. “I get it. Just… thank you. I’ll send you the details.”
Hanging up, your mind raced. Jax was trouble, and he’d always been trouble. No one else in the world brought out your impulsive side the way he did. It was part of why you left, to escape the version of yourself that couldn’t say no to him. You’d always been careful, meticulous, and in control—except when he was involved.
Opie’s text pulled you from your thoughts. As you read over the sparse details he’d sent, that familiar instinct to defend kicked in. You ran a hand over your face, feeling the weight of the decision settle heavily on your shoulders. You had been strong enough to stay away before, but could you live with yourself if you didn’t at least try to help him now?
Finally, you let out a slow breath, the internal battle subsiding as resolve took over. You grabbed your phone again, the decision made.
“Liz,” you said, as your assistant answered. “I need you to get me everything you can on the Sons of Anarchy MC—contacts, history, whatever you can dig up. And find out where they’re holding Jackson Teller.”
The words were out, and there was no going back.
As you hung up, a familiar feeling settled in your chest. It was the same reckless rush you’d felt so many times before, the pull of something you knew you shouldn’t do but couldn’t resist. And no one, not even you, could ignore it when it came to Jax.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You walked into the San Joaquin precinct like you owned the place—every step deliberate, every movement dripping with confidence. Eyes followed you, whispers rippling in your wake, but you didn’t bother acknowledging the attention. You didn’t need to; your presence said enough.
Sheriff Trammel glanced up from his desk, his eyes narrowing as he processed the sight of you. First came curiosity, then something resembling shock. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t expect to see you around these parts. What brings you back? Visiting an old friend?”
There it was—the assumption, the lazy attempt to place you in a box marked the past. You almost smiled. Almost.
“I’m here to see my client,” you replied coolly, eyes sharp as they met his.
Trammel’s brow furrowed for a moment before he connected the dots. “Your client?” He blinked, caught off guard. And then it hit him, the change in his expression obvious. “Jackson Teller?”
“That’s right,” you confirmed, tone even but with a bite just underneath. “I’m his attorney.”
His smirk dropped, irritation replacing it as he straightened up, arms crossing over his chest. “Well, ain’t that a surprise,” he drawled, clearly trying to reassert control. “You do know what he’s been mixed up in, right?”
You didn’t miss a beat. “I know exactly what he’s involved in. What I don’t know is why he’s been stuck in an interrogation room for hours without at least a phone call.” Your voice was razor-sharp, no patience for his games. “If you need a refresher on how this works, Sheriff, I’ll be happy to provide one.”
Trammel’s jaw ticked, his attempt at authority slipping. “You don’t know how we do things around here,” he warned, voice dropping as if that was supposed to scare you.
“And you clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with,” you shot back, leaning in just enough. “You’ve got no grounds to hold him without due process. Now, unless you’re begging for a formal complaint and the inevitable walkout, I suggest you let me see my client. Now.”
A heavy silence followed, the tension between you palpable. Trammel stared at you, clearly weighing his options, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t bluffing. With a tight-lipped sigh, he finally nodded to the nearest officer.
“Take her to Teller.”
As you followed the officer down the hall, the adrenaline that had been pushing you forward settled into a more focused determination. You had anticipated pushback, but this? They were dragging their feet, hoping to keep Jax trapped in a system designed to work against him. It only fueled your resolve.
When the door to the interrogation room finally opened, Jax was slouched at the table, looking more worn than you’d ever seen him—his face harder, the weight of his life etched into every line. But despite the exhaustion, that familiar glint of defiance still burned in his eyes. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, time seemed to stop. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face as if he wasn’t quite sure you were real.
“Jesus,” he muttered, sitting up straighter, his voice rougher than you remembered. “You?”
You stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, your eyes stayed locked on his. You saw the momentary relief there, quickly buried beneath a mix of surprise and confusion.
“Yeah, me,” you said, keeping your tone steady, even though being in the same room with him again after all these years aroused something deep inside you.
As Jax took you in, his gaze locked onto yours with a slow, deliberate intensity. He leaned back in his chair, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the moment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, just enough to send a rush of heat through you. It was the same look that used to drive you wild, but there was something more now—an edge, an awareness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
His blue eyes raked over you, slow and searching, like he was taking in every change, every part of you that had evolved since you last stood this close. But underneath the layers of disbelief, there was something familiar—a hunger, a pull that had never truly disappeared. His gaze lingered, appreciating the woman you’d become, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you crackled with electricity.
"Never thought I’d see the day," he murmured, his voice low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the smirk deepening as he leaned forward just a fraction. "So, you’re back… for me."
His words oozed his signature swagger—seductive, teasing, but laced with an undercurrent of something darker. The way he looked at you now, like he could strip away every layer you'd built up over the years, made your pulse skip. There was a heat between you, undeniable, the tension from the past flickering back to life in an instant. Despite everything, despite the time and distance, Jax still had that maddening ability to make your heart race, stirring up emotions you’d long since tried to bury.
You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his attitude slide. “I’m here because Opie called,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended, trying to ignore the flutter of your chest. “This is business, Jax. So, the quicker you drop your cocky bullshit, the quicker I can figure out how to get you out of here.”
That damn smirk deepened, his head tilting in that familiar way, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes as if no time had passed. “Cocky, huh? You sure you’re not just remembering how much you used to—”
“Don’t be disrespectful,” you cut him off coldly, your voice like ice, laced with a warning. There was a flash in his eyes, the playful arrogance dimming slightly.
His eyes scanned your face like he was searching for cracks in your professional façade, trying to find the girl he once knew beneath the hardened version of yourself standing before him.
You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re not special, Jax. You need a defense, and Opie called in a favor. That’s it.”
Jax tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Sure, that’s all it is. No way you missed me, right?” His lips curled into that signature smirk, the one that used to unravel you in ways you’d never admit.
Your jaw tightened, refusing to give him an inch. “I didn’t miss the chaos or the danger. But I’m also not about to let your recklessness pull you under.”
The smirk stayed, but his gaze darkened, his voice lowering a notch. “Recklessness, huh? Funny, I remember a time when you didn’t mind that part of me. Actually, you really kinda liked it.”
He leaned in just enough to make your pulse quicken, eyes narrowing as they raked over you, searching for any crack in your armor. “Or maybe,” he said, voice low and taunting, “you’re just too scared to admit you’ve still got a soft spot for Charming…and for me.”
Pausing, his gaze lingering on your lips for a breath too long. “Maybe you’re afraid you’re not over me.”
You slammed your notebook shut, the sound slicing through the thick tension. “I know what you’re trying to do.” You paused, struggling to suppress the old feelings he provoked within you, heat flushing your cheeks. The way his gaze lingered on your lips sent a shiver through you. He was pushing you, just like he did all those years ago.
“This isn’t about feelings, Jax! It’s about saving your ass. If you’re too proud or too stupid to let me help, I can walk out that door right now and you can rot here. I promise you that I have better things to do with my time.”
The room went silent. Jax studied you, the playful glint in his eyes finally fading, replaced by something closer to frustration, maybe even hurt. His cocky grin faltered, though his guard remained firmly in place. “Yeah? You’d walk out?” His voice was lower now, more serious, his disbelief still evident. “After all the shit we went through. Color me surprised.”
You held his gaze, standing your ground. “You walked away from me first, Jax. Don’t forget that.”
For the first time since you walked into the room, he didn’t have a snappy comeback.
The tension hung between you, thick and unresolved, as the weight of the past settled in the silence.
And as you stared at Jax, your mind wandered, taking in every detail of the man in front of you. He looked different now—older, more mature, but no less magnetic. In fact, the changes had only made him more striking in a raw, rugged way. The boyish charm that used to come so effortlessly was still there, buried beneath the exhaustion in his eyes. His blonde hair, slightly shorter now and slicked back, showed streaks of silver. The faint peppering of gray in his beard only added to the hardened edge that framed his jaw. He was still strong, still the same powerful presence, but there was a heaviness to him now, like the weight of his choices had settled deep into his bones.
Despite the roughness, despite everything the years had taken from him, Jax Teller was still undeniably attractive. The kind of man who could make your heart race with just a glance—the dangerous pull he’d always had, only now more potent. The way his blue eyes seemed to pierce through you, the way he carried himself, the confidence that bordered on arrogance, it was all there, all of it pulling at you in ways you didn’t want.
But this wasn’t the Jax from those carefree days at the park or late nights at TM. The version of him who used to tease you relentlessly, making your pulse quicken, had been worn down by the life he chose. The violence, the betrayals, the loss… it was all written on his face. For a moment, your resolve wavered. The dangerous temptation to fall back into old patterns, to get too close again, tugged at you.
And then Jax broke the silence. “Yeah, but you actually left.”
That stopped you in your tracks. The accusation in his voice, the weight of it, hit hard, settling in the pit of your stomach. This version of Jax was ruthless. The room was heavy with silence, both of you staring at each other, years of unspoken hurt rising to the surface.
But you weren’t about to let him flip this on you.
“I left,” you repeated, the words sharp, “because there was nothing left for me. You made your choice, Jax. The club, the women… you chose that life over us. You knew it, and so did I.” Your voice hardened, fueled by years of buried frustration. “Don’t try to put this on me like I’m the one who abandoned you.”
He didn’t respond, but his eyes remained locked on yours. You could see the struggle in him, the way his jaw tightened, the way he fought back against what you were saying.
“So yeah,” you continued, your voice steady, “I left. I chose a life where I wouldn’t have to wonder if the next phone call I got would be someone telling me you were dead. You know, like my father.”
The words landed hard, slicing through the air. You saw the flash of pain in Jax's eyes as he stiffened at the mention of your dad. And for a moment, neither of you said a word, but the truth had to be spoken—it was the reason you left, the reason you couldn’t stay in that life.
“I built something for myself. And now I’m here, trying to help you, despite all of that. So maybe it’s time you stopped acting like a shit and let me do what I came here to do.”
His eyes stayed on yours, but now they weren’t filled with that teasing cockiness anymore. There was something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.
Finally, Jax let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He leaned back against the wall, breaking eye contact for the first time, the weight of your words settling over him.
“I guess I just never thought you’d actually go,” he muttered, voice quieter now, the defensiveness finally giving way to something more vulnerable.
For the briefest moment, you almost let the softness in his tone get to you, almost let it bring up the memories of the man you’d once loved so fiercely. But you couldn’t afford to go there. Not now.
You straightened your spine, shifting back into lawyer mode. “Well, I did. And now I’m back, for this. So, do you want my help or not?”
Jax glanced up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a resigned nod, he finally dropped the bravado completely.
"Yeah, Pep” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help.”
And just like that, the wall between you shifted. The weight of his words, and that damn nickname—it hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like a suckerpunch to the gut, and a rush to your chest, stirring up memories you’d buried deep.
For a split second, the weight of everything between you seemed to vanish, replaced by a memory of a simpler time. You swallowed hard, fighting to stay steady, and nodded once, flipping your notebook open again, determined to stay in control.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You could feel the weight of the eyes on both of you, the tension thick between the rows of onlookers. It wasn’t just another day in court; this was the opening move in a game of chess that would decide whether Jax would spend the next decades of his life behind bars.
He stood tall, his posture relaxed, but you could see the strain in his face, the way his jaw clenched tightly as the judge read over the charges. Murder. Conspiracy. And the bail—the Judge already threatening to keep him behind bars. It was a deliberate message, one meant to keep him locked up and out of the way. One you knew too well.
You glanced at Jax from the corner of your eye, noting how composed he seemed despite the gravity of the situation. But then again, that was him—always steady, even when the world was falling apart around him. Still, you caught the tension in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white.
The DA wasted no time, framing Jax as the leader of a violent motorcycle gang, a man entrenched in crime, a threat to society, and someone with every reason to flee. It was the narrative they always spun, but it still landed heavily in the room.
The judge leaned forward, his gaze heavy with scrutiny. "Given the serious nature of the charges against you Mr. Teller," he began, his voice measured, "I am inclined not to grant bail."
A subtle ripple of murmurs moved through the room, but you didn’t flinch. You lived for this part—standing in the line of fire, fighting for your client. This was what you were born to do.
Clearing your throat, you stepped forward, your voice steady and sure. “Your Honor, I understand the gravity of the charges, but Mr. Teller is not a flight risk. He has deep ties to this community—his family, his responsibilities, and his roots are firmly planted in Charming. He operates a successful business that helps rehabilitate recently released inmates, providing them with support and job opportunities.
“I’d also like to submit a character statement from former Chief Wayne Unser of the Charming PD, which corroborates Mr. Teller’s commitment to his community and the positive contributions he has made over the years. He has shown unwavering dedication, and there’s no reason to believe he would abandon those responsibilities now.”
As you approached the bench to hand the document to the judge, you could feel the tension in the room, but you weren’t finished.
“Furthermore, Your Honor,” you pressed on, “there is a glaring lack of concrete evidence provided by the prosecution at this time. What we have here is more of a narrative than a solid case. My client is being painted as guilty by association, rather than through any real proof. The due process he’s entitled to has already been compromised by rushed charges and incomplete evidence. Denying him bail under these circumstances would be fundamentally unjust.”
You could sense the weight of the room shifting, the prosecution casting quick, uneasy glances at their notes, preparing a rebuttal. But you weren’t going to let them get the last word.
“All we’re asking for, Your Honor, is the opportunity for Mr. Teller to continue living his life while we prepare his defense. He’s not going anywhere, and the absence of substantive evidence speaks volumes.”
The judge sat back, contemplating your argument, and you braced yourself. His eyes flickered to Jax briefly before returning to you.
"Bail is set at $500,000," he finally declared, the gavel heavy in his hand. "And Mr. Teller will surrender his passport."
The decision came down like a hammer, the thud of it reverberating through you. You glanced over at Jax. His expression didn’t waver. No flinch, no sign of surprise, just a small nod, as if to say, ‘We knew this was coming.’ His eyes met yours, steady and calm, while the weight of the judge’s words hung in the air.
You swallowed hard, regaining your focus. There was no time to react, only to plan. Your mind was already turning over the next steps, fast and sure. You’d have to move quickly now.
And just like that, court was adjourned. The room erupted into murmurs as people filtered out. But you stayed put for a moment, watching as Jax was cuffed again, his wrists bound in front of him. He met your eyes briefly, a flicker of something passing between you. Trust? Maybe. Or maybe it was that same pull—the one that made it impossible to stay away, no matter how much you tried.
You exhaled slowly, gathering your things, the weight of what’s next pressing down on you like a storm brewing just on the horizon. There was so much left to prepare for, so much at stake.
As they led Jax away, he gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. You returned it, knowing that this was just the beginning. You would do what you came here to do—protect him, defend him, win this case. But as you watched him disappear into the hallway, the past, as always, lingered too close for comfort.
As the last of the courtroom's noise faded, you found Jax seated in the small holding area, his posture tense, arms resting on his knees. He glanced up as you approached, a flicker of frustration in his expression as he leaned back against the wall.
“They’re really putting you in a tough spot with that bail,” you said, your voice calm despite the frustration you felt.
“Half a mil,” Jax muttered, shaking his head, a bitter edge to his tone. “They want me to fucking rot in here.”
You shifted, standing a little closer. “Are you able to cover the 10%? Fifty grand?”
Jax gave a slow, skeptical shake of his head, running a hand over his beard. “That’s the problem… I don’t know if we can pull it all together in time. The club’s tapped from all the heat we’ve been under, and most of my assets are tied up in shit I can’t touch right now. I’ve got some, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”
You crossed your arms, thinking through the logistics, trying to calculate how quickly you could move things around. It wasn’t just about the money—it was about timing, resources, and connections. You looked at him, the weight of his doubt hanging in the air. He didn’t like feeling helpless, and you hated seeing him like this.
“I’ll call Opie,” you said after a moment, your voice steady, full of resolve. “We’ll figure something out.”
Jax met your gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge how serious you were. “And if we can’t?” he asked, the vulnerability in his voice barely masked.
You didn’t blink. “We will,” you promised. “I’m not letting you sit in here any longer than you have to.”
He watched you for a long moment, his skepticism giving way to something that resembled trust, though he still seemed unconvinced. “Alright,” he said finally, though there was still a tension in his voice. “But if it doesn’t happen—”
“It will,” you interrupted, cutting off his doubt. “Let me handle it.”
Jax’s expression softened, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Just hang tight and I’ll have you out of here as soon as possible.” You reassured him.
He sighed, the weight of the situation still pressing down on him. “I hope you’re right.”
You gave him one last look, then turned to leave, as you stepped out of the holding area, the cold air of the hallway wrapped around you, you hit dial on Opie’s number. It only rang once before he picked up, his voice steady but laced with concern.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.
“Opie, I need you to pull together whatever you can for Jax’s bail,” you said, urgency threading through your voice. “The judge set it at $500,000.”
“Shit.” Opie growled. “That’s a lot of cash on very short notice. We might be able to scrape together 30 or 35 at most, but—”
“Do what you can,” you said, trying to sound more encouraging than demanding. “I know it’s a lot, but please, Opie, just focus on getting the cash as quickly as possible. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. He knew all too well what getting involved in Jax’s life again could mean for you.
You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of his words. “I know what I’m doing.” Your commitment unwavering.
He paused, and you could almost feel him weighing your words, knowing the bond you shared with Jax. “Alright. I’ll rally the guys and see what we can do.”
“Thanks, Ope,” you said, a faint hint of relief hanging off your voice. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
You hung up, your heart racing as you weighed your next steps. It felt insane, but the idea of Jax trapped in that cell was simply unacceptable.
You were ready to dip into your own savings if it meant securing his freedom—a leap of faith rooted in the conviction that he deserved a chance, despite everything that had happened between you.
With a surge of determination, you navigate your way through the courthouse, already brainstorming ways to cover the bail gap. You knew all too well how difficult it was to say no to Jax, to resist the magnetic pull he always had over you. His presence was like a drug, intoxicating and familiar, making it impossible to ignore the depths of your feelings for him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky as you stood outside the county jail, leaning against your car, arms crossed. It had taken most of the day, but between Jax’s assets, the club’s contributions, a few favors, and your own money, you had gathered enough to post his bail. You handled everything from the legal side, and now, all that was left was to wait.
When the doors finally swung open, Jax emerged, free of his cuffs, his movements deliberate as he sauntered toward you. That familiar strut—the same one that used to drive you wild was still there, but it was different now. Worn by time.
You glanced up just as he stopped in front of you, hands sliding casually into his pockets. His smirk made a brief return, a shadow of the cocky kid you once knew. But his eyes... they carried something more broken now.
“This isn’t over, Jax,” you said before he had the chance to speak, your tone sharp, all business. “We’ve got a long way to go before trial, and I need you to cooperate. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
He leaned in slightly, his voice low, rough around the edges. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
You rolled your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “I’m serious. I need everything from you—details, information, the truth—if we’re going to win this.”
Jax raised an eyebrow, that smirk lingering. “You think I’m holding out on you?”
“I think you’ve spent most of your life holding out on everyone.” you shot back, your voice cool, cutting through whatever charm he thought he was working. “I need full transparency, Jax.”
You were always so good at calling him on his bullshit. One of the very few people who even dared to.
For a moment, his expression shifted—just a flicker of something underneath the surface. The smirk faltered, replaced by something unreadable. He stepped back, crossing his arms as he leaned against the hood of your car, his eyes scanning you like he was trying to size you up all over again. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if the person standing in front of him was still the same woman who knew him better than most, or if time had changed that.
It was like the years between you hadn’t existed, like you were both right back where you started. Only now, the stakes were higher, the weight of everything unsaid and unresolved hovering between you.
The ride was quiet at first. The hum of the engine and the passing landscape were the only sounds filling the space between you and Jax.
You kept your eyes on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, doing everything you could to ignore the tension that thickened the air inside the car.
Jax sat beside you, his gaze a palpable weight, even though he hadn’t said much since you pulled away from the jail. He’d offered a brief, low thank you, but that was the extent of it.
Your mind raced with everything unspoken, years apart, and buried feelings neither of you dared to confront. The last time you’d been this close, everything had been different. Now, the proximity felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the drop.
Jax shifted, clearing his throat as if to break the silence. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. Bail me out.”
You kept your eyes locked on the road, your grip tightening around the steering wheel. “It’s my job.”
“Is it?” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying challenge in his words. “There’s no way my guys could scrape together 50k that fast. If you’re risking your own money, Pep—that doesn’t sound like just a job.”
He knew you too well, as if he could still read your thoughts. His words hung heavily in the air, the truth simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.
You didn’t answer right away, focusing on the road ahead, trying to steady the swirl of emotions threatening to pull you under. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t about to admit that.
Instead, you took a breath, your voice measured. “I’m doing what needs to be done. That’s all.”
He glanced over at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, like he could see right through the wall you’d put up. “Sure,” he said, the knowing look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t buying it. “You always were good at getting what you wanted.”
You looked at him, the comment hanging between you like an unfinished sentence, laced with the weight of the past. Jax shifted in his seat, his gaze flickering over to you as the silence stretched. You could feel it—the weight of everything, the tension that always seemed to hang between you. It was almost suffocating.
“You were impressive in there,” Jax said, breaking the silence once again. His voice was low and rough, but genuine. A smirk played on his lips, and it tugged at something inside you.
“You sound surprised,” you teased, a lightness creeping into your tone as you welcomed the distraction from the charged atmosphere in the car.
He chuckled, leaning back against the seat. “Nah, not surprised. Just… damn, you’ve changed.” His gaze roamed over you, like he was trying to reconcile the woman beside him with the girl he once knew.
Jax’s grin widened, clearly reflecting on your words in court. “I especially liked the part about how I rehabilitate former inmates at the garage.” His laughter echoed in the confined space.
You let your smile shine through. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” A mischievous smirk playing on your lips, “I mean… being president of the Sons is kind of the same thing, don’t you think?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before adding, “I���ve just perfected the art of storytelling.”
He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. “Yeah? You make it sound almost convincing.”
“Well, I’m also really good at getting what I want,” you replied, relishing the lighthearted banter even as a familiar heat simmered beneath the surface.
He studied you, his gaze piercing, making you feel heavy, almost relaxed, underneath it. “But it’s more than that. You were always smart, always tough. Now… it’s like you’ve grown into it. Like you own it.”
There was an intensity in his voice that made your chest flutter, a recognition of everything you’d become in his absence. It wasn’t just admiration; it was respect—something deeper and more meaningful than it had ever been between you.
You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Thanks,” you said, keeping your voice steady, even as his words unraveled emotions you hadn’t confronted in years.
His gaze lingered on you, heavy and unyielding. “Guess I’ve been missing out,” he added, a smirk returning to his lips, though it felt softer this time, as if he was wrestling with his own realizations about you and the past.
You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened, the way the years and distance didn’t seem to matter when you were this close to him. It was dangerous territory, this pull between you—familiar, yet different. Both of you had changed, but some things were harder to leave behind.
“Don’t get used to it,” you said with a small smile, still trying to keep the mood light. “I’m not always going to be the one bailing you out.”
Jax laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
The ride back to Charming always felt endless. The road stretched out before you, but all you could focus on was the man sitting beside you, the charged silence thick between you both. The air in the car felt heavy, buzzing with unspoken tension, making your mind wander in directions you didn’t want.
Desperate for a distraction, you reached for the radio, just as Jax did the same. Your hands collided, the sudden touch sending a jolt through you, electric and impossible to ignore. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send sparks skittering up your arm, your breath catching for just a second.
Jax froze too, his hand lingering over yours for just a moment longer than it should’ve, both of you caught in that split second of something undeniable. You didn’t move, and neither did he. The heat of his skin against yours, the brush of his fingers—it was like a shockwave, pulling you back into memories you’d been trying so hard to suppress.
You glanced over at him, finding him already watching you, his eyes dark, intense. The air between you humming with a vibrant, electric tension.
Neither of you said a word, but the silence spoke volumes. You pulled your hand away first, the moment breaking, but the charge still lingered in the air, leaving you both more unsettled than before.
You pulled into the familiar lot at TM, the sight of the place hitting you like a wave. It had been a long time since you’d been back, but the memories came rushing in all at once—the sound of engines revving, the smell of oil and metal, your dad’s laughter, Jax’s smile. The weight of it pressed down on your chest, and you struggled to keep your composure.
Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as you tried to steady yourself. Anxiety twisted in your stomach, your mind flooding with the past.
Jax shifted beside you, breaking you from your thoughts. You turned to him, forcing yourself to focus, to stay present. There wasn’t time for nostalgia, not with everything ahead of you.
“You comin’ in?” he asked, his voice smooth. “The guys would love to see you.”
Your heart lurched at the thought. Walking through those doors, seeing faces you hadn’t seen in years—it was too much, too soon. You weren’t ready for that.
You shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. “No, not this time,” you replied firmly, glancing toward the clubhouse.
Jax seemed to understand, his eyes softening with a knowing look. He didn’t push.
As he reached for the door, you cleared your throat, keeping your voice even, though your pulse quickened with anxiety. “I’ve got a few cases to wrap up,” you said, glancing over at him. “But once that’s done, I’m all in. I’ll be back in a few weeks, and we’ll get to work. Until then, Liz will handle discovery and start gathering everything for your defense. You can trust her—she’s a better paralegal than I ever was.”
Jax didn’t break his gaze, the weight of it making your thoughts scatter. He gave a slow nod, his voice quiet but firm. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be ready.”
You nodded in return, your mind racing, trying to stay focused on the work ahead rather than the tension simmering between you. This was just the beginning—a long, messy road loomed, and the past still lingered too close.
“Listen, Jax,” you said, your tone turning serious. “It’s important you stay out of trouble. You need to minimize your time with the club—no unnecessary risks, no run-ins with the cops. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”
He tensed, his jaw tightening. “You’re telling me to stay away from my own club?” There was a sharp edge to his voice, a flash of something that made the air feel heavier.
You shot him a pointed look, not backing down. “I’m telling you to be smart,” you said, matching his intensity. “I’m trying to keep you out of prison. Help me do that. No stunts, no risks. You’ve got too much riding on this.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, the tension in his frame unmistakable, but after a beat, he nodded. “I’ll keep my head down.”
“Good.” You softened just slightly, letting some of the weight ease from your voice. “This is only the beginning, Jax. We’ve got a long way to go.”
For a moment, he hesitated, fingers lingering on the door handle before he spoke again. “I appreciate you doing this, Pep,” he said, his voice holding a depth that caught you off guard.
That god-damned nickname hitting you square in the gut. You swallowed hard, “Just stay out of trouble,” you reminded him, keeping your tone firm despite the way he was making you feel.
Jax gave you a nod, hesitating as though he had something more to say. But instead, he gave you that old, familiar wink and stepped out of the car. As he headed toward the clubhouse, you watched him, a knot forming in your chest that you couldn’t shake.
Alone again, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. The weight of everything left unsaid—it hung in the air long after he was gone.
What the hell had you gotten yourself into?
Part 3 - The Attraction
#jax teller x you#jax teller x reader#jax teller fic#jax teller#charlie hunnam characters#charlie hunnam#soa au#soa#soa fic#jax teller fanfiction
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Unwanted Soul _ Part 4 = Requested
[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]
The Request (1) + (2)
@hoshinosama Maybe p4 is about Alastor learning about reader past? 🥺
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 (here) — Part 5 *I suggest you read Part 2.5 if you didn't, it'll help
When you found out all those years ago, back when you first manifested in Hell that you were still somehow alive, you seeked out so many ways to off yourself again. You didn’t kill yourself to live in torture again. Especially when there was no right entertainment for you
Unforturnately, you did find out that you missed the annual exterminations that was a one way ticket to death. You missed it! Then you went to the next big thing. You seeked out the King of Hell, your next way to true death
You caught Lucifer at an awkward timing. His daughter that he so loved was doing something impossible, as he claims and his wife was more and more distant for some reason he can’t point. Well, you’re not interested in any way so you kindly asked if he could kill you
That dead look in your eyes shocked Lucifer really. You were like a soulless being, a puppet? A doll? There was no spark in you, no wants apart from your wish to death. Lucifer took pity on you and took you in, offering you a job of being an information collector of sorts. His little informant
You only agreed because he said you had powers in Hell and tempted you to delay your death till the next extermination to see if you still want the same. A little below a year to see if you liked your demon life or self. You discovered quite the unique power you have and honed it to perfection, testing it and perfecting it
All the while, you made friends with Lucifer who was a bit too obsessed with making ducks. He gave you your own collection of ducks. During which you created a case just to put those ducks on display, uplifting his spirits
Now Lucifer notices that you never smiled nor show prolonged excitement for anything. You were fascinated with your powers and abilities, but you were hardly happy. So he tried something. He brought you back to Earth for a visit and for you to get whatever you wished
Never has he seen you that happy and grateful like you were another person. You dragged him all over the place, actually requesting things and wanting stuff done. Lucifer happily fulfilled it all. It was the least he could do when you gave him company when his family was distant from him
Even better was when you gave up on your (second) death and was more energetic. To seems to Lucifer that bringing you to Earth was the right call, so he gave you exclusive access to the living world on the condition that you would never cause harm to the mortals and bring other demons along with you. Namely abuse it, you easily agreed with no issue
Throughout your years of serving Lucifer, you never actually caught wind of Charlie because you didn’t want Lucifer getting depressed even more due to the distance and you never actively searched for Lilith because Lucifer’s response to your offer nearly made your sda self cry for him
You kept a strict business relationship with Lucifer to ensure that all the gathered information was to his benefit and liking, you later allowed a friendship with him because he helped you see light in this hellhole. If you had taken your life, you wouldn’t be enjoying your afterlife or meet him
“Are you really seriously happy with that thing?” Lucifer asked as his face twisted to one of disgust and maybe anger when his eyes darted over to the demon humming a joyful tune while baking with a ridiculous apron You hummed, looking up from your tablet and pausing your search, “If you’re referring to Alastor, then yes, I am.” Lucifer let out a childish groan, plopping his chin in his palm, “Why is it that tacky piece of—” He cut himself off when he heard your giggle. At time he thought you were giggling at his name-calling, but you were looking at Alastor with a soft gaze before you caught yourself and turned back to Lucifer. He smiled along, “Maybe he’s not too bad if he can make you smile like that.” “Like what?” You tilted your head, not following. You blinked twice when Lucifer suddenly lean extremely close to you with a smirk, you raised a brow, “What are you doing? “Oh, darling!” Alastor sang, immediately came over and swatted Lucifer away from you like a bug. Before you could make a comment, he showcased a tray of freshly fried donuts. “I glazed it with some sugar. I can make more flavours, if you so desire, My Dear.” You picked up one and tried it, “Taste great, Alastor.”
Even though Lucifer is happy for your own happiness, he can’t help but want to rile up Alastor just to show that Radio Demon you had a close friendship with The King of Hell. When you were still in slumber mode, he warned Alastor thoroughly that if you were to cry under any circumstances, Alastor’s gonna answer to him
You found it odd how you were somewhat surrounded by people now. Just a year ago, you were trying to get Alastor out of your home and living your dream life. But now, you were in a hotel of all places. You wonder what your life came to really
Your eyes landing on Alastor, you can’t help but smile fondly. Your biggest change was letting someone else into your life and you like it. You can’t deny that Alastor was on the extreme side, but it was all his way of showing affection, so you can’t deny that any longer. They say time will time, and they proved Alastor was a devotee to your affection
It was a mystery why you accepted the gang’s invitation to drink when you were heading to the kitchen for some food, since Alastor was out to visit Rosie. It left you drank and a talker, you were more energetic and carefree than usual, a completely different side. When Alastor came back, everyone was quick to scatter, not wanting to explain themselves to the Radio Demon for your state
“Alastor! Welcome back!” You waved, hopping off the high chair while holding onto your wine glass, wobbly but careful not to spill. “You’re very late today.” “Apologises, My Dear, Rosie was introducing me to some new shops for your steak.” Alastor took the wine glass away and threw it into the bar where Husk was hiding under, he held onto your hand to balance you, “What have you been doing, Darling?” “Oh, nothing. Charlie and the others invited me to drink, Husk made me this bubbly drink that’s a bit… bubbly!” You giggled, planting your face into Alastor’s front, hugging him as you snizzle at him. “Very bubbly.” Alastor looked up to glare at the bar, though void of the culprits that put you in such a state. You avoided alcohol for a reason. He picked you up, holding you like a princess. “Well, My Dearest, time to head back to your room then.”
This state of yours was a wild card to Alastor. Sometimes, you were highly aware of your surroundings and played flirty, sometimes you were sleepy, sometimes you were talkative, sometimes you were cruel. It was like different sides of you were fighting for dominance
He have only seen you sleepy once when he added alcohol into the meal for taste, you fell asleep before you finished your food. The next day he inquired and you told him your drunken states, strictly telling him to not let you drink alcohol or put them in your drink or food. So he was puzzled how Charlie and the others got you to drink
Boredom got you to do a lot of things. Try out new hobbies only to revert back to your old ones in a matter of days. An intensive obsession that doesn’t last long, a frequent phenomenon with you. That’s why you were adamant about him leaving you, you think Alastor will get bored of you and leave out of the blue when you had no time to prepare
Alastor was well aware, though he had no idea where this rooted from, he proved you wrong by staying with you all these years without fail. He’ll continue to do so too
“Ask me something. I’ll answer.” You shifted to sleep on your side, eying Alastor who was cleaning up the mess you’ve been. “Anything.” “Dear, you’ll regret this. I won’t take advantage of your drunk state.” You pouted, “I won’t regret it. We’ve been close. I don’t mind letting you know things, I’ll not answer if I don’t feel comfortable, okay?” Alastor hummed, snapping his fingers to change your clothes to something more comfortable for sleep, then he took of his coat to place it on an armchair. He sat down on the bedside, “Are you sure, Dear? I will ask anything.” “Yeah.” You hugged onto a soft toy nearby “Why did you kill yourself?” “...My life wasn’t worth living.” You muttered, your eyes downcasted. It was a lucky thing that Alastor’s back was to you. “I didn’t see a meaning in my life, every day it was like I was torturing myself.” “Why are you hesitant about accepting connection, affection and love?” You chuckled drily, “That’s so direct, Alastor.” You hummed and closed your eyes, recalling memories of the past when you were alive. “I loved connection, I loved affection too. I never understood love. I had so many friends when I was younger, like a kid, but I realized they weren’t friends and it was a form of bully. I thought my family cared about me but when I wasn’t useful, they pushed me aside.” Alastor moved his hand to you, wiping away a tear that escaped your closed eyelids. “I’m sorry to hear that, you don’t deserve that.” Despite his gentleness to you, he was seething with rage. “No wonder you were pushing me away, Darling.” “I thought I had the love of my life though. He confessed first, I ignored it then accepted it. Then he and I broke off. Afterwards, we’re back together again. He called me clingy, annoying, he regretted giving me his love. So I broke it off. Then he came back to me, saying he was wrong. I was desperate. I accepted, thinking it was the last. I shouldn’t have accepted.” You took a deep breath, your eyes opened, glassy and dull “He’s not worth your time and energy, Doe.” Alastor sat properly, letting you lie in his lap while he played with you hair. “Forget him.” He almost growled, he controlled himself so his claws wouldn’t sharpen. “Forget all about him.” You closed your eyes once more, leaning into his touch. “I killed myself in my sleep. I wanted to sleep forever and ignore all the suffering around me. I don’t want to hear their laughter, I don’t want to see their smiles, I don’t want to sing them praise and congratulations. I don’t want to know about their achievements while I was… I don’t want it…” “Shhhhh… Darling, it’s alright.” Alastor looked down at you, bringing your fluffy blanket up to you. “You don’t need to care about them, you have me with you now. Whatever you desire is yours.”
The promises and whispers of giving you the world, in exchange for your presence in his life. You believed you took Alastor for granted. You were indifference to his affection and care in the beginning, when he showed you such extreme to protect and defend you (even when it’s not needed), you were scared that he saw you as the next entertainment
So you kept pushing him away. Showing him to the door when he was all healed up. You knew it only took that long because he was worsening his wounds to stay longer. It was a cliche tactic and you saw through it. When that didn’t work, he said he had to stay to replay you for your kindness. A rarity in Hell, which you agree. But you told him, “It was only to amuse myself.”
Alastor merely laughed and commended on your honestly. Freshing, as he claimed. Everything you did to get him away from you, it only drew him closer and closer to you. To the point where you have to take a break from it all, to clear your head and think. The hotel, it was perfect, so you sent him there. Maybe he’d find better entertainment there
But then he gave you reports daily, an excuse to hear your voice and feel your presence through the radio. He spotted a loophole. You found yourself looking forward to his reports. Even letting him visit once for a ‘job well done’ reward. He delayed his return to the hotel and you didn’t complain
You told yourself not to fall for him. Don’t let history repeat itself. Save yourself the heartache. This was Hell, no way would someone like Alastor devote to you just because he loves you. No way. Don’t hope. Don’t expect. If you do, you’re putting yourself up for a nasty fall
When you heard that Alastor’s old friend Mimzy came over, completely ignoring the way he treated a soul he owned that went by the name Husk. The next day, you found yourself on the streets searching for this Mimzy character. She didn’t have a good reputation, but who does in Hell. You felt your anger raising when she spoke of Alastor’s name left and right to take whatever she wanted
Before you knew it, you had fired a shot at her. You left before she found you. You left yourself slip. Why now? Why? What made Alastor different? Lucifer saved you from a quick suicide after your arrival to Hell, you didn’t feel the same with him as you did with Alastor. Why? WHY?
You thought you had a piece of mind when Alastor told you the exterminations were targeting the hotel first. This will end your mistake. This will save you the fall. You gave Alastor your order, “Protect the hotel and the Princess must be aided to the best of your abilities.”
To see things end, you stood a safe distance away from the battle. Your eyes on Alastor who took up the role of battling against Adam. You should have smiled that Alastor’s chances of winning was slim, but you found your heartbeat quicken as anxiety rose
The back of your mind shouted at you. Alastor will die. Adam’s an angel. He has angelic powers. Save him. Can’t let him die. One strike from Adam and Alastor’s history. You’ll be free. Wait. No!
Your hands moved as you brought out a spare blank book, you opened it and the winds picked up around you. The pages all came out, flying around you. You teleported between your enemy and your (potential lover) friend
The moment you activated your teleportation, you made your peace, you love having Alastor around you. You love his presence. You love him
Note: I ended up writing too much again. And what's with all those asks suddenly??? So shocked to get that. What ever started them???
Circe Y.
Other Works: MASTERLIST
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#Circe's Nighty Writings#Circe's requested writings#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor#hazbin hotel oneshots#yandere alastor#yandere alastor x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagines#Unwanted Soul
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Hello everyone!
Here we are finally in the series I talk about a few days ago. After the votes you chose Leah, but I might have kept some ideas for Alessia afterwards.
I have the beginning of the story and the end, but I have not yet decided exactly what would happen in the middle, so I am unable to tell you how many chapters there will be in this story.
I hope you will like it and as usual, I gladly take your comments, requests and suggestions :) Don’t hesitate to write to me.
Happy reading!
World count : 4.8k
TW : Mention of breaking up and angst. I think nothing else but if you notice something please let me know!
PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7
The news of your transfer to Arsenal was like a little bomb in the football world. You were on the verge of another contract extension with Manchester City when the London club contacted your agent, offering you a contract that you couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, you thought about it long before accepting. You asked for the advice of your parents and friends footballers perhaps a little more experienced than you. Including Ingrid Engen, one of your best friends since you started playing on the Norwegian national team.
After weighing the pros and cons, you decided to accept and say goodbye to Manchester City. Some things will obviously miss you. Starting with some of your teammates that you consider your friends and who seemed really saddened by your departure.
You quickly got along with Laia Aleixandri and Leila Ouahabi, the spanish womens taking you under their wing just arrived in Manchester. They made your life easier and helped you include yourself in the club much more easily than you could have hoped. Leaving your home country at almost 18 wasn’t easy, but if you wanted to continue to follow your dreams, you really had no choice. Norwegian football being less in the spotlight, when you had the first proposal from an English club, you didn’t hesitate a single second. Your parents and relatives encouraged you to accept this offer as well.
Your life in Manchester has been pleasant and you can’t help but be a little nervous about moving to a new city. With other people, other places… In short, to start almost from the beggining. The only thing that has changed between your settlement between Manchester and London is that you have undoubtedly developed your athletic abilities and skills in all areas necessary to be able to play football properly.
Your contract was signed just after the end of the World Cup, so you were the last to announced at Arsenal. This didn’t allow you to find an apartment in time and that is why you find yourself in a hotel room for your first nights in London. It’s a little strange, but you’d rather that than take an apartment that wouldn’t suit you. It’s important for you to really feel at home when you cross the threshold of your door and you haven’t found the one who gave you this impression in those you have visited for the moment.
You only have a few things with you at the moment, all your furniture is stored in Laia’s garage in Manchester, ready to be sent as soon as you find what suits you. Very soon, let’s hope.
********
It’s a little nervous that you leave the Uber that accompanies you to the Arsenal training center for your first day under the colors of the club. You have already made the promotional photos, so you have already met several people belonging to the staff. You’ve already had a meeting with Jonas, but you haven’t met a lot of people officially when it comes to the players.
Last night, Alessia Russo contacted you via Instagram (you didn’t even realize she was following you on social media) and offered to wait for you at the entrance to make your way together. You quickly accepted, even if you also quickly understood that it was for you more than for her. Alessia knows a lot of people on the team, unlike you. But the gesture made you happy. Alessia having played at Manchester United while you were playing at Manchester City, you might have had a bad connection with her, being clubs enemy, but that’s not the case. Leila and Laia always took you with them when they were going out with Ona and her friends and that’s how you met Alessia. From saying you’re friends with her there’s a world, but you appreciate the blonde’s personality.
Alessia is already waiting for you when you arrive and you smile at her when you reach her height.
"Hi" you say with a slight smile, responding willingly to her embrace.
"Nervous?" asks the blonde, glancing at you.
You answer with a simple grunt that makes her laugh, before you go to the conference room where you meet the rest of the team. She asks you about your Summer and you ask questions back, learning that she went in her family in Italy.
Several of your teammates are already present when you enter the room, including Jonas who greets you both with a big smile. You find yourself following Alessia around like a lost puppy in the room, but she doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she introduces you to people she already knows.
You’ve come across some of them on football fields in previous games, but aside from a few words exchanged with them, there’s never been anything more. You talk to Laia Codina, whom Laia and Leila described as an adorable girl, when a new trio arrives in the room. Lia, Leah and Katie.
"Katie terrifies me" Alessia jokes in your ear before Leah spots her and leads the other two in your direction.
"Do you know Y/N?" Alessia tells Leah after they greet each other with an embrace.
"Not really" Leah replies with a smile. "Welcome to Arsenal!"
"Thank you very much"
When your eyes meet, you feel a wave of shivers running through your entire body. Nothing to do with the terror that Katie can inspire in Alessia, but what it can mean does intrigue you no less. But you quickly recover, greeting all three. You realize too that Leah’s embrace lasts a few seconds longer than the others, her hand dragging in the hollow of your back when she laughs at a joke Katie made.
Shortly after, Jonas and his assistants arrive in the room and ask you all to sit down. You find yourself next to Alessia and Manuela Zinsberger and listens wisely to what he tells you. This mainly consists of a warm welcome from the new players, a reminder of the goals set for the team this year and the introduction of new staff members. After that, everyone is invited to a brunch and you find yourself around a big round table, once again with Manuela but also with Frida Maanum, who seems delighted to have a compatriot with her on the team.
"We’ll be able to show Stina and Amanda who the real Vikings are" she told you, amusing the people around you.
The least we can say is that you quickly feel comfortable.
Finally you were wrong to fear the introduction into your new team. You haven’t trained together yet, but you feel it won’t be a problem for you to fit in here. Despite you, your eyes are a little too turned towards Leah Williamson, who has lunch at an another table. You didn’t expect the injuries one to be here today, which was stupid of you. They’re just as much part of the team as you are.
In the middle of the afternoon, after visiting the different rooms and the training ground, you are free to leave. You stay a little longer than the first ones who do though, having fun making passes with Alessia and Manuela, while Leah, Lia, Beth and Viv stay a few meters from you to discuss. When you finally decide to leave the field to go home and you don’t follow them to the parking lot greeting them nevertheless, you see Leah arching an eyebrow.
"Where are you going?"
"Taking the subway? I don’t have a car yet" you answer smiling, shrugging your shoulders.
"Bullshit. Someone can bring you back" Leah says, turning to your teammates.
"I’m not going to force someone to make a detour for me, Leah, but that’s very kind, thank you very much."
Something in the blonde’s gaze makes you think that if she had been fit to drive, she herself would have made the detour, but being driven by Lia she doesn’t have the opportunity to do so.
"I can" says Alessia nicely. "Where do you live?"
A new wave of surprise attacks your teammates when you give them the name of your hotel.
"You live in a hotel?" Lia wonders with her kind voice this time.
"I didn’t find an apartment for now" you shrug your shoulders."It all happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to anticipate things properly."
Well, you must also say that you wanted enjoy your holiday without bother yourself with it.
"We have a guest room if you want to come and live there for a few days, the time to find something" proposes Manuela.
But before you have time to answer, Alessia suddenly resumes speaking, slapping her forhead, as if she had just remembered something.
"They’re looking to rent the apartment in front of mine, on the same floor. If it’s like mine, it’s really nice!"
********
It turned out that the apartment in front of Alessia is indeed very nice. A bright living room (Very rare for London said Katie when she was sent by Leah to come make the counter-visit with you to scare the seller in case of scam attempts), a bedroom, another room that you used as a guest room, a third to make you an office and a living room with open kitchen. You even have a small balcony overlooking the inner courtyard, separated from Alessia’s by a transparent wall. "We’ll have to do a housewarming party" several of your teammates got excited. And that’s how you end up with most of the players on the team crammed into your living room, laughing while watching a reality show chosen by Jen. You ordered pizza and a supply of beer and other drinks has been flooding your balcony since last night. But you feel good and that’s all that matters. At the end of the show, you don’t know who offers a drinking game, consisting of taking a shot of alcohol if we did more than the person says. For example, you find yourself having to drink when Lotte says "I took more than three yellow cards last season." "Katie should drink like five shots" jokes Viv towards. Katie glare at her as laughter rises around you, but the game continues. Finally, when one of them says "I slept with more than two people" you are surprised to see that finally not many of you drink. You do. "Y/N?" Manuela turns to you with a disbelieving smile. "We never said we had to justify ourselves" you answer pulling your tongue at her. A new round is quickly thrown after that, but you cross Leah’s eyes a few seconds later. She also drank, which is probably not surprising given the small reputation that precedes her.
After clearing your throat, you look away with a slight blush on your cheeks.
You regularly saw Leah, between the parties organized by the different team members and during training. If the blond doesn’t follow those in the field, she has her appointments with her physiotherapist at the same time as you play. And she now participates in strength training and physical maintenance.
You talk to her regularly, but you have a hard time staying away like you promised yourself to. Leah seems like a very passionate and kind person, but some of your former teammates in Manchester City have made you aware of her flirtatious nature. And a one- or two-night thing, are really not what you’re looking for right now.
A little later in the evening, when at least half of the squad has returned home, you find yourself tidying up a little in the kitchen accompanied by Lia, Leah, Alessia, Manuela and Frida.
"So you have more than two conquests?" teases Manuela, leaning on the central island of your kitchen.
You have the impression that Leah’s eyes will pierce your head when she hears Manu’s question.
"I’ve got like three" you says, rolling your eyes. "It’s not the end of the world"
"It’s not" Lia laughs.
Hoping to divert the conversation, you offer once again to drink to your teammates slash friends. But that was without counting on Manu’s spontaneity.
"Oh but it wasn’t you who dated Alina Meier who play in Aston Villa? Lia’s swiss teammate?" (n/a I don’t want any problem with anyone, this girl is all invented)
You feel your stomach contracting a little bit to her name. Manuela isn’t mistaken, but you usually avoid talking about your ex. Any of your interlocutors could feel the tension emanating from you, but Lia is the fastest.
"Can I have another beer please?" she cuts the conversation with a big smile.
You willingly accept and pivot towards the fridge to dive in. Alessia takes charge of changing the topic of conversation and you sigh of relief when your hear that it works. You spend two seconds more than necessary to take out the beer, taking a large breath before leaving the fridge. Alessia puts a comforting hand behind your back and you find yourself once again stuck in Leah’s eyes when your eyes cross.
An hour later, it’s just Alessia, Leah, Victoria and you. Manuela fell asleep on the couch and you will probably find her in the same place tomorrow morning. Vic and Lessi are in the middle of a conversation about a band when you find yourself on your balcony, enjoying some fresh air.
"Mind if I join you?"
Leah. You obviously invite her to join you, despite yourself very intrigued by the young woman. You’re not stupid, or at least not stupid enough not to realize that she seems intrigued by you too. She speaks at you more often than Manu for example and behaves differently with you than with Lia or Alessia. You can imagine how much she looks about you and to be honest you’re interested about her too. But on your side it’s not only physical interest, which changes everything.
"Are you okay?" asks Leah with sincere concern. "You seem a little down since Manu mentioned Alina."
You look at her thoughtfully for a split second before shrugging your shoulders.
"She doesn’t bring back pleasant memories. But it’s ok" you finally confess, looking at the sky.
It’s difficult in London to observe the stars, between pollution and public lights lit everywhere. You miss it a little.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Well… Everybody in the football world knows, no?"
Another disadvantage of dating a well-known player, in the end. It’s impossible to keep your privacy private.
"I don’t think so?" said Leah, frowning. "I don’t, anyway." You look at her again for a few seconds and it doesn’t take you any longer to understand that she’s telling the truth. "We dated for almost a year, until I found out she had been cheating on me with someone in the man team from her club for almost four months." "Oh... I’m so sorry" A new glance in her direction allows you to understand that she really is. Frowning, she seems upset by this story. Like all the people to whom you tell the truth of your break up with Alina. You assumed that everyone knew why, but it would seem that they didn’t. It kind of cheers you up to be honored. "Jordan’s playing with her now" you say thoughtfully. Leah grunt at the mention of her ex and you take advantage of the fact that she looks in front of her to observe her. Leah is a very beautiful woman, it’s not surprising that people like her so much. You see regularly video on her in your "For you" on Tiktok. "You’re not the only one having a bad relationship with your ex" ended up sighing Leah. "Do you want to talk about it?" you ask, repeating her words from before. "There’s not much to say. She’s just, you know... gone." Maybe you shouldn’t get close to her to put your hand on her shoulder, her proximity triggering strange sensations throughout your body. You realize that the joints of Leah’s hands that are attached to the fence are white, and your hand quickly leaves her shoulder to be laid on one of Leah’s, stroking it. When Leah turns her head in your direction, you realize how close your faces are. Your breath is cut off and the infinity of the blue of her eyes makes you lose yourself. When Leah puts her hand around your waist to take you against her, you feel like your heart rate has never been so fast.
But it’s nothing compared to how you feel when her lips land on yours. One hand is automatically behind her neck and the other on her cheek. Your lips begin a passionate and sensual dance and that’s exactly how you imagined things when you thought about how Leah kiss.
The blonde takes advantage of a wimper from you to deepend the kiss and request access to your mouth with her tongue. You leave it to her, carried away by these waves of emotions and sensations that make you turn your head. You find yourself quickly having legs in jelly and you can’t tell how long this moment happened.
You need all your concentration and willpower to break that kiss, snatching yourself from Leah’s arms.
"I’m sorry" you mumble out of breath, facing Leah’s surprised face. "I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry"
With one last mumble, you hurry back inside. If the remaining guests suspect something, they don’t show it. You take the excuse to clean up a little more to mask your trembling hands and let your heart rate returning to normal. Five minutes later, Leah came back inside, excusing herself and leaving your apartment, calling it a night. She didn't even look at you and well, that's hurt. But it shouldn't, aren't you the one who pushed her away?
After kissing your cheek and saying goodbye, Alessia left you too. You throw a blanket on Manu’s sleeping body, you go to your room. It’s late, but you know that Ingrid sometimes stays up a little later than other people.
From You Are you asleep?
From Ingrid 🩵 No. are you okay?
From You Can we call each other?
You don’t get messages back, but Ingrid tries to call you while you’re brushing your teeth. You pick up, mouth full of toothpaste and greet your friend with a hand sign when her face appears on the screen.
"What are you still up at this hour?" smiled Ingrid
"I could ask you the same question" you point out to her after rinsing your mouth.
Ingrid just turns your phone screen and you realize that she shows you her living room, in which she seems to be installed with Mapi and Baghera watching TV.
"Hola Mapi!" you smile to the tattooed when she greets you with a wave of hand.
"What about you?"
"I invited the girls to my apartment to celebrate my move in" you explain before leaving the bathroom and going to lie on your bed.
"Was it nice?"
You hum for any answer, the memory of the kiss you just exchanged with Leah coming back full force. After spending years paying attention at you, Ingrid knows you very well and she realizes in the second that the reason you called her is related to this evening.
"What’s going on, Søtnos?"
Mapi being next to Ingrid, you are relieved that you started this conversation in Norwegian. Since Leah’s name is rather all-purpose, you hope that when you mention her, Maria will not realise. You never understood why there is such tension between the Spanish women and the English women, at least for some of them. But Mapi will probably never be friends with Leah.
Ingrid is a person you could easily confide in, even if there are parts of your life that you have never talked to her about. But you trust her with your life and you know that she will always be able to see things in a neutral and mature way. Which is not always your case.
You explain the situation to her, trying not to take too much time while giving her all the necessary information to have a clear vision of things.
"For summary" resumes Ingrid after your monologue "You like her, she seems to like you too. She kissed you, you pushed her away and she left without looking at you?"
"Uh… yeah"
"And you’re surprised?" laughs softly the brunette shaking her head.
"No, on the contrary. I should never have accepted that kiss in the first place, it was a serious mistake on my part."
"Why?"
"Because she doesn’t see things the way I do, I guess. Leila told me to beware of her and she didn’t want anything serious for a long time" you sigh as you roll to the side.
"Did you talk to her about it?"
"No, we didn’t have time between the kiss and the moment she left my apartment slamming the door" you laugh.
"Be careful with your bad attitude" warns Ingrid pointing at you.
But you smile at her in return. You know she doesn’t scold you for real.
"Anyway, I doubt that she will want to speak to me again after that" you sigh again.
This information shouldn’t depress you as much as that, but still. And this doesn’t escape the keen eye of your compatriot once again. She smiles softly at you.
"I like Leila and I don’t doubt that she means what she says, but trust me, you’re never better served than by yourself."
Her look from the side and you know she’s looking at her own girlfriend. You remember perfectly well that Ingrid was also told to beware of Mapi. But when you see where they are today, you tell yourself that she did well to trust her own idea.
"You have a better conscience than me to judge people" you remind her.
Ingrid answers you with a grunt and you know that she thinks about what happened previously in your love life. You make a grimace and decide to change the subject, questioning her rather on Mapi, her trainings and what she has to tell you again in her life.
Your call lasts another ten minutes before you decide to stop, promising to call you back quickly. What you usually do once a week at least, determined to keep in touch despite the fact that you are not in the same country.
It’ll be a long time before you can fall asleep that night, Leah deep in your mind. Part of you is bitterly sorry you pushed her away, but on the other hand, no one can blame you for wanting to protect you, right? No one knows your past and what you went through before you came here. But you can’t help but feel guilty, despite the little time you spent with Leah, she confided in you about her relationship with her ex and even if it was just a few words, you feel like she wouldn’t do it to just anyone. Your last wish is to hurt her, she asked nothing for it.
You will have to wait until the sky clears, heralding a new day for you to finally find sleep, long hours later. Little did you know that Leah experienced the same thing in her own bed.
********
As you have imagined, Leah was particularly cold the next time you saw her. She greeted you, but only from a distance. Her affectionate smile and the little touches if attention she offered you on a daily basis now seem to need to be evoked in the past. And it bothers you too much for your taste.
This obviously caught the attention of the girls you were closest to in Arsenal, starting with Alessia.
"Is everything okay with Leah?" she asked you one day when you ended up in her apartment after a game.
"Yeah, why?"
Thank God you were on your phone and you were able to use this pretext to pretend to be absorbed by what was on it. Otherwise Alessia would have seen the slight panic take hold of your gaze.
"I don’t know, I think she changed her behavior with you… It’s not so much in her habits"
Alessia is far too observant, but given her character and personality, it doesn’t surprise you. It's also probably thanks to this that she saw your hesitation and she got closer to you before starting to speak again.
"Leah is my friend but you are too, so if you need to confide in someone, you can do it with me ok? I know how to keep secrets"
"Even for Tooney?" you asked while arching an amused eyebrow.
You met the energetic Englishman recently, when she came to London for an interview and took the opportunity to attend a match of Alessia.
"Even for Tooney" laughed Alessia gently shoving you with a shoulder.
You laughed too and you both went back to your respective phones, but in truth Alessia’s remark began to spin in your brain.
"Thanks"
Is all you added before you letting your head on her shoulder. Alessia responded by tapping you on the top of it, without taking her phone out of her eyes. And that was enough.
********
"Your tattoo is amazing!"
Katie’s exclamation makes you turn in her direction and you smile timidly when you see her watching your back carefully.
"Thank you?" you whisper in response.
Even if you prefer showering at home, this is not the first time you change in front of your teammates. So you don't know it Katie have never dared to ask you about it or if they have never really make attention the tattoo you have on your back. Yet it’s hard to miss. Drawn on all your right shoulder blade, it goes down to the hollow of your hips and shows up to your right shoulder.
"Wow, invite the girl on a date before" jokes Manuela when Katie advances towards you, without detaching her eyes from your back, her head slightly tilting on the side to have a better view.
"Sorry, I already put an option on it!" Caitlin exclaims at the back of the locker room, causing a general laugh.
Katie rolls her eyes, but you realize that she has been joined by Lia and Leah, all three of them carefully observing your tattoo. Your gaze lingers on Leah, who seems to resist as much as possible her desire to come and look closer. She stands behind Lia and when your eyes cross she silently observes you for long seconds before shifting her attention to your back.
"Sorry about the invasion" Lia smiles gently.
"It makes me think of a painting" Leah thoughtfully made next to her.
"By Van Gogh yes. The Starry Night. It was my grandfather’s favorite painting. Well, it’s a modified version obviously, but the inspiration is there"
The surprised look of Leah doesn't escape you. Lia is watching you silently and next to you Katie and Manuela have started a conversation about tattoos. As for Alessia, she finally emerges from the shower after her eternal routine of care.
"Do you like painting?" Leah asks carefully, looking at you with the same apprehension as if your gaze could ignite her alive.
"My grandfather was a painter, not very well known but he introduced me to this world" you answer by shrugging your shoulders.
"What she paints is incredible. She has a room dedicated to this at home, behind her bedroom" Alessia intervenes.
You turn in her direction, frowning. It's a part of you that you don't really want to share with everyone, fearing their jugement. You don't think you're a great painter, but you like painting. It's sort your mind. Your glance is quickly captured by your friend.
"What? It’s true" she mumbles, shrugging.
You roll your eyes and turn around to finish dressing, putting on a t-shirt and a sweatshirt to accompany your ripped jeans. The little troop that surrounded you has dissipated, but Leah’s gaze remains thoughtfully on you. You cross it when you glance in her direction and you blush slightly.
The effect that woman has on you… It might be a good idea to talk to someone about it again instead of thinking desperately about her every night before you fall asleep.
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Memento Mori
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: loads and loads of tension in the air!!!!
A/N: I absolutely loved writing this chapter, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did - I am excited to see what you think about it!!!
After supper, Daemon found her lurking around Caraxes, she shined like a beacon in the dark of the night.
During the meetings with the riverlords, Lúthril had been by Daemon’s side, keeping her distance from everyone around her, only interfering to offer Daemon her wisdom or when Daemon asked her to provide her opinion on certain matters. Even though she kept saying that she had no King, in front of the little lords of the Riverlands, she did indeed act as if she had pledged her loyalty to Daemon as her king.
In everything she did, she was just too perfect: the way she carried herself ever so gracefully, the way she talked, her choice of words… It felt somehow wrong, making Daemon feel uneasy around her. Of course, at such moments, he would remember that she was no human and the uneasy feeling would go away. Deep down, he knew it only made sense for her to be perfect after having spent many years with the Gods.
Others in Harrenhal were mesmerised by her beauty the moment they saw Lúthril for the very first time that day – Daemon could swear he had seen Simon Strong drooling. Many tried to question her about where she came from and who she really was but Lúthril had a way with words – before they even knew it, she would brush the questions under the table, changing the subject or offering her wisdom about something completely irrelevant.
Before supper, Simon Strong had ordered the servants to prepare a room for the Lady to use as her chambers. Daemon could only imagine how different it had to feel to finally have a bed after hundred years of imprisonment.
As he approached Caraxes, the memories of the conversation earlier haunted him once again that day. Lúthril’s knowledge of his darkest deeds unnerved him. She was not just an advisor. She was a force—one he could not yet comprehend. But whether she was his salvation or his undoing, only time would tell.
“You give me the feeling that you enjoy the presence of my dragon more than my own, my Lady.” Daemon said, causing Lúthril to raise her head to meet his gaze. Throughout the day, he had got used to addressing her as my Lady to make the riverlords believe that she was some lady from somewhere. “Have you ever seen one this close before?”
Lúthril nodded as she placed her right hand on Caraxes’ scales. To Daemon’s surprise, the dragon was actually allowing her to touch itself, to come near itself. Daemon had no information about the Valargon’s relationship to the dragons; however, the view in front of his eyes was enough to intrigue him.
“We lived in Valyria amongst the dragonlords for a long time,” she responded, “but long before Daenys the Dreamer had her visions about the Doom, our Seers told us that we had to move to Westros.”
“So you can speak High Valyrian,” Daemon swiftly switched to his mother-tongue, causing Lúthril to giggle as she walked towards him.
“Of course I can,” Lúthril responded in High Valyrian. “Back then, the wealthiest dragonlords of Valyria could also speak the language of my people.”
Daemon took a few moments before continuing the conversation – the way Lúthril spoke the language had him mesmerised. The way the words rolled off her tongue, how High Valyrian added even more grace to her (as if it was possible) made Daemon want to stay there and just listen to her speaking in the language of his ancestors for the rest of his life.
“What about the dragons? Why do they know you?” Daemon asked, trying to gather his thoughts on the present moment but it was hard not to drift away. “Your people were no dragonlords, yet Caraxes seems to recognise your blood somehow.”
“Do you know how Targaryens became dragonlords, Daemon?” Lúthril asked, switching to the common tongue. Her intense gaze was causing different emotions to rise within Daemon, which had been confusing him ever since he met her. He didn’t really know her and yet, he was feeling the strongest attraction he has ever experienced in his life. It was exhilarating and also unsettling.
Daemon followed her when she started walking. “Of course,” he said, trying to understand where she was headed with this question. “They used blood magic – even Targaryen babes know about this.”
Lúthril sent him a confident look as she slowed down her steps. “And who do you think taught them how to carry out the blood magic to bind the dragons to the descendants of Valyrian blood?” Upon seeing the change in Daemon’s expression, she laughed. “I believe you now know the answer.”
“So it was your people?” Daemon asked, he found it hard to believe that the Valargon had played such a huge part in shaping the Targaryen dynasty – by teaching them how to be dragonlords. “That made us kings?”
She shook her head, causing her long hair to sway. “No, we simply taught you how to bind the dragons – the rest, you have accomplished yourselves.” Taking a deep breath, she rested her forehead against Caraxes’ scales, her feet stopping. It was astonishing that Caraxes was allowing her to get that close to him and that Lúthril was not getting any burns since the scales of a dragon tended to get very hot, even steaming during cold nights. “We gave you dragonfire, which eventually became our death. Destiny works in funny ways.”
Standing behind her, Daemon kept still for a moment, trying to decide whether he should listen to the wicked whispers crowding his thoughts. His reason was screaming at its lungs, telling him it was wrong, flashing him memories with Rhaenyra to make him feel awful about himself. However, the yearning after Lúthril and the desire to touch her skin was way stronger, coming from his very essence. The moment he laid his eyes on her, he would forget about Rhaenyra in a heartbeat.
At that instant, all Daemon wanted was to have her.
Listening to the whispers, Daemon took a big step towards Lúthril, resting his hands on either sides of her head, which still leaned the warm scales of Caraxes. The dragon’s hard scales were warm against Daemon’s skin, still leaving his hands unburnt. Upon realising the movements around him, Caraxes raised his long neck in an uneasy manner; however, upon seeing Daemon, the dragon let itself rest again.
“How interesting that might be, it still doesn’t answer my question – why does Caraxes recognise you?” Daemon whispered in her ear in High Valyrian. The way Lúthril shivered when his warm breath reached her ear was visible to Daemon as well, causing the edge of his lips to curl upwards.
“It is not just Caraxes,” She responded in High Valyrian, still her back was facing Daemon. “All dragons recognise us – the Valargon blood has been known to them ever since the first hatchling flapped its wings. They can smell our magic and realise its similarity to theirs.”
With slow movements, Daemon raised his right hand for a brief moment to gather Lúthril’s hair on her right shoulder. Then, he leant in for his lips to be on a level with her ear. His warm breath licked her exposed neck, causing her to take a deep breath. “In that case, I am certain Caraxes would gladly let you fly with me.” Daemon’s words were lower than a whisper. “Have you ever ridden a dragon?”
Lúthril paused for a moment before speaking, Daemon wished he could know what she thought at that moment or how she felt; however, she had a strong grip on herself, trying to show Daemon as little as she could. Well, the Rogue Prince always welcomed a challenge – the harder it was to unravel her mysteries, the more satisfaction the prize at the end brought.
“Flown I have,” Lúthril switched to the common tongue as she slowly turned inside Daemon’s arms to face him. The small distance between their bodies felt like it could burn any moment with the tension heavy in the air. “But not on dragonback.”
Daemon raised an eyebrow at her, looking down to meet her gaze. She seemed to know how to play this game as well; however, her moments of hesitation were more visible to the naked eye than his. “I believe you have to provide me more details as to how it is possible to fly without a dragon.”
A smirk found its way to her lips as she pushed back a strand of hair falling in front of her eyes. “Daemon Targaryen, you do forget who I am often enough,” she spoke with a playful tone. “Why should it puzzle you that a being able to see your past, present and future can fly too?”
“I have never seen a person floating on their own in the sky,” Daemon responded with his quick wit, following the same playful tone Lúthril has set. He leaned in even further so that his lips were brushing against hers when he spoke, “have you?”
Even the brief touch of their lips in that single moment sent a shiver down her spine, Daemon had to try hard not to put on his victory smirk. He wanted to make her desperate for himself for he enjoyed this little game more than he could put into words.
He felt… alive after a long, long time.
Lúthril’s response took him by surprise. “It saddens me that your mind insists on restricting me to the fragile human body.”
“Ah,” Daemon spoke as he took a step back. “A shapeshifter, then.” It was a thought which has not occurred to him before; however, given everything the enchantress could do with her magic, shapeshifting was really not so surprising. “Which body does my Lady prefer for a pleasant flight?”
A giggle escaped her lips as she followed Daemon on his way to Caraxes’ saddle. “An eagle,” she responded, “a white eagle.”
[POV change]
You wrapped your hands tighter around Daemon’s waist as Caraxes flew through the night sky. Even though you had flown yourself, dragonback was a far different experience – far more thrilling and far more terrifying – even for someone like yourself.
In Valyria, conquering the skies amongst the dragons used to be one of your greatest pleasures in life – but that was another time, another life, when fire had not yet consumed your world, turning everyone you once held dear to ashes.
The wind tugged at your hair, the cold air biting against your skin and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel the warmth of Daemon’s body through the leather garments he carried. Strange, you thought. He had a fire burning within him, one that not even the flames of his dragon could match.
And yet, he did not know how easily he could be consumed by it.
Perhaps I myself, too, do not know how easily I can be consumed by it. The fire burning with the dragon.
For centuries, you had been untouchable, even in your imprisonment. Men, mortal or otherwise, held no sway over you. Yet, this one—Daemon Targaryen—made you question your restraint. His touch was a flame you didn’t wish to extinguish, though you knew it was dangerous to let it burn too brightly.
Your fingers, so accustomed to cold distance, now gripped him as though clinging to the last rays of the eternal light. Vulnerability, once alien, now crept beneath your skin like an uninvited guest, and you wondered how long you could allow yourself to burn.
Knowledge made it even more sweeter, the taste of the fruit. Knowing that the connection between you and Daemon had been woven into the very fabric of the time.
Is this why I find it impossible to walk away from him? you thought as you inhaled his scent, which somehow brought peace to your mind. Or is it something else?
Being close to him was becoming more intoxicating each time – you could not even recall the last time you had experienced such feelings towards another person, Valargon or human. It felt… exciting, in a different way. Despite knowing his past, present and future; Daemon was still a mysterious new book needed to be read – you had to let yourself get lost between its pages to taste its mysteries.
Desire was, indeed, quite hard to put a leash on.
“You have been quite,” Daemon spoke, breaking the silence. “Is everything alright?”
“I am simply enjoying the skies,” you responded with a content tone, “it is truly wonderous – exploring the night sky on dragonback.”
For a quick moment, Daemon looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze, his purple eyes shinning with joy. “I am glad you are enjoying yourself, my Lady.”
After a short pause, you spoke. “I do enjoy your presence, too, Daemon Targaryen.” A soft chuckle followed. “Not just your dragon’s.”
Daemon’s laugh sent shivers down your spine, you found it hard to believe how much you had grown you like that sound. It was utterly enchanting, leaving you wanting to crawl into his arms.
After dismounting Caraxes, you both stood next to each other, looking at the cursed castle of Harrenhal in silence. The night was still calm but the wind was getting colder and the full moon was slowly leaving its place to the waning crescent, its light reflecting from the diamonds on your dress.
Upon feeling his gaze on yourself, you turned your head to the left, Daemon’s purple eyes awaiting you. The flirtatious aura he normally had around himself was quite thin at that moment; all you could see in his eyes was… adoration. You couldn’t recall the last time someone looked at you that exact way.
“The diamonds on your dress,” Daemon spoke slowly as he raised his right hand. His fingers brushed against the diamonds adorning the neckline of your dress. “They make me feel like as if they have captured the light of the stars inside.”
A small smile formed on your lips. “You are not entirely wrong,” you responded, causing him to raise an eyebrow. “These diamonds were forged under the light of thousand stars, during the brightest night in the Land of the Gods.”
Daemon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, the ghost of his fingers trailing down your left arm over the fabric of your silver dress, giving you goosebumps. You took a deep breath. The effect of his touch on you was terrifying – your heart was on a race, breaths getting deeper, your body aching for more.
“So they did capture the light of the stars,” Daemon muttered as he gently held your hand. “Any less wouldn’t do your beauty any justice.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
The distance between your bodies seemed to get less and less, until you stopped yourself – you knew today was not the right time. Upon seeing the confused look in Daemon’s purple eyes, you placed your right hand on the side of his face, your left hand holding his right one.
“Not today,” you whispered, your lips slightly touching his as you spoke. “The stars move in their own time, Daemon. Let us not rush what’s already written.”
Standing on your fingertips, you left a kiss on his left cheek, a chuckle leaving Daemon’s lips. “You are a strange kind of woman,” he spoke as you stepped back.
With a smile on your lips, you turned around to head back to the castle. “Good night, Daemon.”
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#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon x reader smut#daemon targaryen smut#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fic#hodt#hodt fic#matt smith#game of thrones
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Two Tickle Sessions In One Day!
Hi!
It's been a while but I hope you are doing well. I am still on break from posting clips or requests but I wanted to let you know about my recent sessions.
A month ago I was in one of those bad tickle moods. One of those moods where it was all you could think about and the rush of getting tickled or tickling someone was intense. I don't get these moods often and usually when I do, I don't like it because the last couple of times that has happened, I've received bad news about someone I care about, so it also makes me a little anxious when I get that way. Thankfully, it did not happen this time.
I needed to get the mood out but there was no one in the area to session with. Since no one was available, I decided to check out two parties that I have not been to in years. One M/M party and one Female Foot Party.
When it comes to M/M, I am 100% lee and it is something that does not give me much if any arousal. It's just tickling, and I can appreciate it. I'm sure I'd appreciate it more if it could "get me there" but I've seen enough clips and done sessions, and it usually doesn't. I also rarely do M/M because I have to be in a mood for it. This time, I was in a big mood for it, so I decided to go.
I've spoken about the M/M party in the past. Last time I went about 8 years ago, I just wasn't comfortable or ready to be there and it seemed like the owner took umbrage with that when I tried to leave. I figured a lot of time has passed and I have gained more experience, so hopefully things would be fine. I explain why I wanted to go to the party, and I was allowed to go.
I entered the party, and as a cis-identifying male, it's a little overwhelming at first. Action (Everyone is clothed) is everywhere right in front of you, but everyone is also very nice and doing their thing. I like to give people space, but there was no space to go, so I was just watching everything go down lol.
While waiting, I was introduced to a guy, who had grey hair and , who was also into tickling and we began talking. At first, the convo was small talk, but then we realized we knew each other from a previous meeting, which made things easier. After some talking, he asked what I was here for and when it comes to males, I am strictly a lee, so I told him I wanted to be tickled. Luckily, a massage table opened up and was cleaned off and ready to be used. We asked the table owner, who was a tall, slender man with grey hair and facial hair, if we could use it. Lucky or not lucky for me, we were allowed but the table owner was also into tickling. They asked me if he could join in and I figured why not?
I laid on the table and decided not to be bound because sometimes I stay still anyway. And before I know it, I have two lers all over me, testing out my spots and trying to find where I am most ticklish. They would glide their fingers all over my sides, under my arms, my tummy, my thighs and of course, my feet while I laughed and didn't move around too much. It was extra sensitive because 1. With the massage chair, I'm mostly looking upwards and can only see the ceiling. And 2. I'm getting teasing from all angles! The two very skilled lers keep saying things like, "Oh, he's real ticklish!" "I think he likes it!" While others at the party are watching and saying things like, "I think he doesn't want it to stop" and "He's having a lot of fun now"
With two lers on me, I never had time to have one spot make me off the wall ticklish because it was always changing. Sometimes it was their fingers lightly tickling my stomach that was the most intense. Other times, it was harder touches on my feet by one of the lers. Sometimes it was an attack under my arms. There were a lot of different moments during the 20-30 minutes of tickling that just kept making me laugh hysterically. I do know at one point, a hairbrush was used because I felt it and that always felt more surprising than ticklish. The other interesting part about having two lers on your feet were both styles were different. One was lighter and the other was harder, but both were effective!
(I couldn't find a MM/M gif)
After my time was done, I thanked them for the session and decided to wrap up since the party was coming to an end anyway. It was time to go to the next party.
This party, which I also had low hopes for, runs all the time in NYC and it is pay-to-play. I was that down bad, that I was willing to do it this evening lol. I went in with very low expectations and the reminder that if the first few moments are bad, I can just leave.
When I got there, it took forever for them to let me in, which already set my expectations to low. Despite this, I walked in and heard laughter already. Someone was getting tickled under the sheets, so I knew I wasn't the only tickler in the area. The girls that I saw in there were nice and chill to talk to for the most part. Some were more personable, while others just wanted to make their money, which I am not upset about. They're not there to be my friend.
The first lee was a tiny girl with red hair, and was ticklish but not that reactionary. I don't think she was ticklish on her feet at all, but I would always ask if it's okay to tickle elsewhere. Thankfully it was, and her upperbody, especially her arms, were her weakspot. She did not seem into it in the slightest, so I tried not to overdo it.
The second lee was this tall, black girl, with long hair and very nice to talk to. She wasn't sure how ticklish she could be, so I would tested some of her spots. Her feet were tolerable, her knees were very sensitive, and under her arms, she was almost unable to do!
I brought some tools that I didn't bring out at the M/M party (my bag at that party was all the way on the other side I just didn't want to bother with it) I ran an ostrich feather up and down her soles and her legs, which felt more relaxing to her. Then, I brought out TicklingDuck's device vibrating device.
As the device touched her soles, she would laugh hard, squirm around, cover her mouth, and was genuinely shocked at something being so ticklish on her. I asked if I could use the device on her knees and she went "Oh no!" and let me do it anyway, which I didn't do for long because she couldn't handle it.
The third lee was another redhead, who was also a nice person to talk to and wearing boots and long socks. I tickled her through the socks first, which made her giggle a bit, before taking them off and scribbling on her toes and soles so more. Her feet were also moderately ticklish, so I asked if I could tickle other parts of her body. Her weakspot was the ribcage and made any other spot look like a 1 compared to them! I spent most of my time on her feet since the ribcage was so intense, but we did play a few games. I would tell her if she could let me tickle there for 10 seconds, she would get a reward, which would be a foot massage or other foot worship. She agreed and barely opened up her arms until I scribbled in there and teased her further, saying "You gotta let me get in there or I'm gonna increase the time" She opened up her ribs and it was the longest 10 seconds of her life. Afterwards, I would congratulate her for making it through and doing such a good job.
After we were finished, I was ready to go since I had an obligation to get to later in the evening, but another taller woman approached me and asked me if I like tickling. She mentioned that she liked tickling to and wanted to know if I wanted to session. I was skeptical at first, because it felt like a money-grab, but I figured I'm already here so why not?
Best decision I made at that party. I started by spider tickling all the way up from her feet to legs, to her sides, across her tummy, back to her ribs, and of course under her arms. This woman was genuinely ticklish everywhere and was a lot of fun to play with. I would caress her thighs and tease like I'm about to tickle there, only to sneak attack and tickle her tummy. I brought out the TicklingDuck device again and we played another counting game to see how long she could last without moving, and I made sure to count the longest 30 seconds I could, running my fingers all across her tummy and under hear arms while she laughed her head off underneath the covers. The last thing I did to her, was bring out the pair of stocks that just arrived. I was itching to try them on someone and she was so excited to see stocks. We locked her bare feet and the stocks and I ran my fingers all across her soles and under her toes, while she was unable to get away or pull them out. While these sessions lasted 10 minutes, this one was definitely longer and we both knew it. After she was done, she complimented my ler skills, saying most male lers are rough, but I was very gentle with her, but also devastating, which I took as a big compliment.
Before I left, I had one request for her. I had a hard time locking the stocks on myself at my home, but when I did, they were not very comfortable. I asked if she could test the stocks out on me to see how good they were. She obliged and got my feet in the stocks. Once I was locked in, she began running her nails across my soles, which was one of the more intense tickles I got all night! I laughed hard and and was unable to do anything else, my feet were trapped and that definitely made the tickling worse! She would tease me and say things like "Aww! Is someone ticklish?" And "Now who's ticklish" until I had to stop her because I really had to get going. I thanked her for the fun time and planned to come back in the future.
Overall, it was a great day of tickles and satisfied my ler and lee moods!
#tickling#ticklish#personal tickling#male tickling#m/m tickling#m/f tickling#f/m tickling#tickle story#tickle community
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Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 1)
Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Part 2⋆*・゚:⋆*・ Part 3 ⋆*・゚:⋆* Part 4⋆*・゚:⋆* He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Warnings - heavy angst, betrayal, smut, non consensual, dom!Soldat. rough!Soldat Words - 2000
Bucky was already waiting on the couch, tormented by the decision he has made – to confront her. Y/n enters their shared apartment, carelessly smiling at him. She seemed so generous about her love – a constant presence and support since the fight on the airport years ago. Grace and patience and consideration is what she made him master once again, these little qualities are in his control, thanks to her kind soul. Y/n helped him forgive himself and he chose to return love and compassion, chose to fight his past. Wakanda was their secret - beautiful and peaceful. Her heart was born open and although his hands were empty at the time, he filled them with the soft fire made from the two ember eyes. The dreamy mind is full, overflows with tender memories… When she enters a room, it blazes with red, pink, roses, but behind her blossomed spirit stood a façade he was not aware of. The floral presence is poisoned, spreading into him. And just like the deadly nightshade, she is indeed is a poisonous flower.
"How long has this been going on?" he asks coldly, taking a sip of his bottle before putting it back on the table. A stressed dove, mournfully looking at her as he gets up. "How long?" he asks again. „Bucky, what is the matter with you?“ There won’t be a chance of escape, he steps closer, towering over her as some sort of a warning. He just came back to life, laying under the warmth of it and is already being burned by the person who he trusted the most. Abstained for far too long, he needs to hear her says it – he needs the truth to devour his life. "Can I ask what happened to your neck?" pointing to her neck, his tone is still neutral, but his eyes are exhausted by the phantom following his mind the past days. Love makes knots, now it is brutally tearing them apart. He ran from the darkness of his nightmares for so long, only to find himself in a situation darker still. „I don’t know“ she is wearing a turtleneck shirt, she hates those – inside she is crumbling as much as her lies. “You don’t know?” his tone strays to the realms of anger – it consumes him, fear ensnares her until her back hits the wall behind, Bucky not withdrawing from her face even for a moment “Who was it?“
"No one, Bucky" she manages to retain her posture, not giving him the satisfaction of telling the truth. The blade of her words hit a nerve. "You’re terrible at lying" He crosses his hands, nails digging into his arms. Silence looms for a while before he nods, his dearest love painting his misery and his eyes ache with the weight of the unspoken truth. “So no explanation, got it" „I don’t know how I got them…“ Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly, trying to shackle his intention of breaking something. "So you have no idea what happened to your neck? Are you making fun of me or do you have brain damage“ his tone finally rises as he takes the collar of her shirt between his metal fingers, pulling it down rashly to reveal the bite marks. The image wraps around his throat as a wreath of spikes. “Who did that to your neck, because I am sure that it was not me“ „Jesus Bucky, why are you so angry, I didn’t do anything. We literally spend most-“ He laughs devilishly, still holding her by the colar. “Just so many bad things happening in my life. Nothing important, nothing new, just one thing after another, you know?” There is no such thing as life for him , it's just catastrophe. Unmoored and alone, his eyes become full of tears. The only still part is his body. He gives her one more chance to say something, to explain herself in any way, but the silence is pain chiselled forever into his chest, it hurts more than words. "Don’t be angry, please…let me go…“ "Don’t be angry…don’t be angry" he whispers as a lullaby, staring into her teary eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at her audacity to even cry. "We shared a life and you to cheated on me" His favorite beauty and terror on myriad levels keep her silence. He decides to let go of her collar, his fingers clenching to fists as their drop weightlessly to the sides of his body. "You expect me to believe this…? Really, y/n?” he says , his expression is still angry, but it appears softer "If you didn’t want to tell me because you‘re afraid, it‘s fine. Just be honest and tell me that, why are you still lying? That hurts me more than you think." „I am not…“ He stands there unmoving, staring at her and it seems like he‘s still processing this realty of her not having any concern towards him. Her mind is resting whilst his is grieving, wondering and reasoning. He can’t gain control of his dreadful spirit, he is the shell he was back at Wakanda. A tear runs down from the wet, dreamful eyes, landing on his cheek as he looks down, trying to hide it from her. Bucky takes a step away from her and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking and it‘s obvious that he doesn’t want to cry in front of her. Their love is his apparition, a figment of his imagination. He observe her for a moment, he is dying in that house, buried underneath the floor of their shared past and she just watches it unfold. Bucky finally shakes his head in disbelief. "So you‘re telling me you have no idea where that bruise came from?" a weak laugh escapes his lips, choking back a sob. „You’re lying, I know it“ he says in a calm voice, but there was a quiet threat hidden beneath it. „I don’t want to leave, Bucky“ "And I don‘t want to get cheated on" he counters with an angry scream as his pain is infinite at this point. All kind of thoughts stirring inside of him. „I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.“ It makes him tremble to remember their daily life, but now he is unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will. „I can’t tell you...I can’t...I will leave“ she whispers, having found a comfort in hiding. "Fine, leave then!” Bucky snarls, before he spins around as his heavy footsteps resonate through the quiet room, but he stops himself to look at her for the last time – the end of the line.
Bucky watches her leave, already nostalgic for his love. He doesn’t say a word, not even bothering to close the door as he stands in the doorstep, watching her go. Y/n notices him staring from the darkness of the doorway as she makes her way into the world. Bucky’s inner self is shutting down more and more, as though to protect himself, but it became inaccessible even to himself. Over the next couple of days, Bucky shuts himself completely in his lonely home. He only leaves the apartment to buy alcohol and some food. His days are spent either drinking or sleeping, and when he‘s awake and sober, he just sits on the couch blankly, staring at the wall. He is composed of nothing, but illness – a phantom built out of pain. The days turn to weeks. With his heart broken, he despises life. Rising from a grave with each morning, wallowing in his sadness and alcohol. („What went wrong...Did I do something wrong?”) he wonders for weeks repeatedly, tears again rolling down his cheeks. „What did I do to deserve this“ he screams, slamming his metal fist into the wall, there is nothing but a stain in his heart, it grew – infecting the whole heart. He slowly slides down, sitting on the ground as he buries his head into his arms and starts to cry.
- Two days before she left - „Bucky, baby…I don’t wanna do anything tonight, let’s just sleep“ he was getting harder and harder, pressing into her back to let her know. He whispers in her ear, but the voice is huskier than usual and filled with seduction „Цветок...“ (Flower) Bucky’s control is slipping once again and y/n gups at the realization. The metal grip tightens on her hip, drawing her even closer to his clothed cock. Fingers pass through the fabric of the nightdress, pulling it upwards to reveal her butt cheeks. His warm hand, spilled under her body proceeding to lightly trace his fingers over her nipple. She knows to her remove the panties by herself, not wanting to anger the Soldier from the very beginning as it happened last time. He groans, closing his eyes to savor the scent of her hair. Vibranium fingers digs his into her soft skin, leaving prints of evidence. „No, don’t…please…he will see“ she desperately tries to voice her concern, knowing there is no way of fighting him in this state. „Пусть он увидит…“ (let him see) His breath fanned the skin of her neck, sending chills to the bone.
He dragged his length through her wetness, pushing in fully leaving y/n with no time to adjust. Tears roll down her beautiful face, why this keeps on happening? The warm touches of his human arm move to from her nipple to her stomach „Я хочу ребенка...да.“ (I want a baby…yes) She takes a deep breath, sometimes regret settles in for not telling Bucky that the Winter Soldier was very present and real. He never seems to remember, they operate as different people. She whimpers at the cold touch to her clit, he was flicking it, making her body shake. His hand returns to her hip, grabbing it harshly as he starts thrusting deeply. His pace becomes erratic, being closer to his orgasm. Soldat forcefully holds her in place so he can fill her with hot cum. Her reality hurts so much. She wants to get away, but when she had tried before – resulted in him being close to sadistic. His fingers trail to her hair, removing it from her neck and he sinks his teeth. Goosebumps trickle up there, from fear, from pain as he slowly turns her head towards him – there is no sight of Bucky.
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